One step forward, Two shove's back
by Freckle359
Summary: Never have two little words ever make him stop in his tracks.
1. Chapter 1

'_Oh James…'_

Never have two little words ever made him stop in his tracks. House narrowed his brows at the sudden sound, confusion written on his face. His fingers haven't even closed the door fully to his shared loft when they stilled. The place was empty, the lights were turned low.

Slipping his bag lightly to the floor, House clicked the door shut silently before making his way down the hall. A trip to New York cancelled early. He didn't like the idea of spending a night in a hotel room when he could just spend the hour driving back home and sleep on his soft mattress and wake up to surprise his room mate and in exchange. Get breakfast.

A win-win he believed, but it wasn't going as planned.

His feet were careful, the soft 'thump' of his cane masked by the steady 'bump' he heard. Of all the years he spent in front of his TV, watching one DVD after another, surfing one web site after another. He knew what to make out of a sound like this.

A sharp sound, a muffled sound. Like a piece of wood was knocking on the wall in a steady rhythm. Oh no, he wasn't stupid. It seems Wilson was having a little late night fun in House's absence.

Rounding the corner, House found himself coming to a stand still, his shoulder slumping against the hall frame. Why? His lips a frown. Why, did he suddenly feel betrayed? Scared? This was not the first time he walked in on his friend doing the nasty and he highly doubted it would be the last, but this time, it hurt him. Why?

'_A-Ah….James..'_

House closed his eyes tightly, his cheek pressing into the wall. He wanted to drown them out, he could hear, why? Why did he feel like Wilson was punching him in the gut with every thump he heard or every breathy moan? Why did House suddenly want to rush towards his friend's room and slam the door open, to embarrasses, to startle, to STOP what Wilson was doing… Why was House hurting?

Perhaps he was scared, because this meant Wilson was moving on. Squeezing the handle of his cane tightly, House's lips twisted in a bitter sneer. Why did Wilson have to move on? They were happy, right? They lived together and they didn't cause each other that many problems. Wilson got his neediness fix with House's demands and House got to feel like he was loved and cared for with Wilson's endless nagging and lectures. Why? Why did Wilson have to take a step and move on? Did he know what this meant? Did he know what he was risking?

Wilson would kick him out! He'll fuck the woman, grow to love HER like Wilson did with his past wives and then turn around and tell HIM to get out! House would go back to his apartment and be alone again. He would turn to drugs just to keep himself from feeling the numbness, to lie to himself that he didn't lose his best friend, that he wasn't going to have to fight the new girl to get his friend's attention. House closed his eyes tightly again, his mind replaying, flashing back to what had happened already before.

Amber, the non-stop fighting, bickering. One-upping, trying to sway Wilson, to keep him close. Almost losing the friendship and then finally….

House raised his hands to his face slowly, covering his ears to the sounds. He didn't want to hear it, he didn't want to accept this. Wilson promised, PROMISED! It wouldn't be like before! House wouldn't have to fight and try to hold onto Wilson's friendship, not again!

Opening his eyes, House noticed his vision was blurry, his cheeks suddenly cold. With a brush, he cursed to himself silently. He was pathetic. Crying… Letting his arms slump to his side, his weight bearing down on the wall, he sighed. He wanted Wilson all to himself. He never liked sharing and he didn't want to. If Wilson was going to make someone moan, then it was going to be House. If Wilson wanted to give all his attention to someone, it was going to be House. If Wilson was going to love someone, it IS going to be House.

Suddenly, the pain, the hollow spot he felt began to fill with a new emotion, a new wave. Rage. With a glare, he stared at the closed doors of Wilson's bedroom, where the sounds, the movements, the beginning of the end lay. Wilson was a moron, not knowing what a good thing he had. If he was to stupid to notice then House would have to be the nice guy and make sure Wilson doesn't repeat his past mistakes?. Make sure that Wilson _KEEPS_ his promise.

An ugly smile crept along House's face. Oh yes, House would make sure Wilson lived to regret taking his step. Tomorrow, when the love birds wake up basking in the new morning, whispering sweet nothings into one another's ear. Kissing one another with promises and daydreams, they will exit that room and there House will be waiting. With a smile on his face, he'll tear that relationship apart before it even began. He'll fight harder this, he'll make that slut run away screaming. He'll make sure Wilson stays his, and only HIS.

'_Uh, yes!'_

'Oh yes Wilson, enjoy it now' House thought, pushing himself back to his feet, making his way to his room. He began to plan, he began to mark out. What scheme? What trick? What could he do differently now that would make sure Wilson would stop trying to take that step forward?

'_Oh James…'_

"Oh Wilson." House muttered, shutting his door silently behind him.

"You're in for it now."

//

//

//

Edited by lucretiafly


	2. Chapter 2

'_I'm dancing with tears in my eyes! I'm just fighting to get through the night!_

_I'm losing it! With every movie I die…'_

* * *

House smiled to himself happily as he approached the doorway to his shared loft. Another day, another mark for his deeds. Not only did he cure another unsolvable case, but he showed Wilson that he could not settle for his first wife. House could have danced a jig when Wilson came in earlier and told him they broke up. Thou he pouted when Wilson declined the dinner invite, none a less. House won. He got Wilson. Digging for his keys, he smirked smugly to himself. 'Take that selfish bitch' He thought. How he wished he could have witness the look on Sams face when Wilson blew up on her. He knew the little tricks he did this morning would cause something. Wilson is so anal to let anything sweep by and is so winded up that he would believe it was Sam doing all those messy tricks.

Unlocking the door, he took a deep breath. Wilson would be upset sure, but in the end. Wilson would understand. House did this for the both of them. They only had each other now, and that was worth everything. He smiled to himself. Soon, it'll be just like before.

A girlish giggle swept under the door frame making him go still, his eyes widening.

"No…"

Pushing the door open, he slipped in to see what his brain refused to accept. There, on the island of the kitchen. Wilson sat, a smile on his handsome face, a handful of cards in his fingers as he watched the body across from him laugh and pick up another card from the deck in the middle. Sam. She sat with her back to him, her damn blond curly hair moving with every giggle that left her. "So, you guys back together?" He asked halfheartedly, his spine stiffing as he walked by, trying so hard to not let his mask slip and show the rage and sudden pain he felt.

"Nope." Sam replied before smirking to Wilson, whom only hid his smile behind his cards. "I'm all in." Sam purred, making House tense as he stood before the fridge, his fingers gripping his bag tightly. "You can thank me later." House muttered, pulling the door open. He needed a drink. It seems his plan did not work as well as he hoped. Damn it! What happened! Looking over, his mask finally slipped at the sight.

Sam and Wilson, sitting close together. Smiling at one another. Touching one another. Something twisted in Houses chest and his face broke. Sadness, an over whelming surge of emptiness hit his chest, his heart. He was losing him. Looking back to the fridge, he felt his throat tightening, drying. He could just see it. Wilson and Sam together, sleeping together, watching TV together. Soon, Wilson will be telling House that Sam was moving in and he…. Had to move out…

He tried to swallow, his dry throat throbbing as his eyes began to blur. He was losing it.

Reaching out slowly, he touch the milk carton. The first step he took to end this love that was building between them, the first knot he tied in his rope of evil deeds to insure, to ground Wilson at his side. Backfiring. Feeling his heart drop, feeling his body start to go numb. He slipped the carton back onto the shelf of the fridge door, the place Wilson hated to have it. Closing the door slowly, he picked up his bag and began to make his way back down the hall, feeling his chest crack with every step he took, like he was fading away with every step he took. He walked as thou he was on thin ice, just waiting, begging to be cracked open with every breathless sigh that left Wilson's lips.

Grabbing his bedroom doors handle, he took one last glance back and he only cursed to himself.

They looked so damn happy… so fucking in love.

They didn't need him… Wilson didn't need him anymore.

Pushing the door open quickly, he slipped inside and shut the door, dropping his bag to the ground. Only behind the close door, did his body begin to tremble. Only away from anyones eyes did his face crumble and his lips part in a broken cough. Sliding to the floor, he buried his face into his hands and willed himself to be strong but his heart, it screamed to loud for him to ignore and he only sobbed, letting his tears fall to the floor, letting his body wreck itself from the sobs. He lost his best friend. He lost the only means of his sanity. His thigh gave a scream of pain that pushed him back into his close door, his fingers gripping the torn flesh tightly. It throbbed and burned, crying to him, begging him to stop the pain. The pain of a missing muscle, the pain of his broken heart. Opening his eyes, he panted deeply, his teeth clenching. What was left for him now? Who was he going to go too? He can't go to Wilson no more, not while Sam was there. Another broken sob muffled from his throat at the thought of all his plans. All his movie nights, his dinners, his lunches, his play dates, ALL RUINED! RUINED! By that damn bitch just because she happen to find a new improve Wilson.

Not caring if they heard, let them hear! Let them know, he was pissed. Pushing himself to stand, he let out a shout, picking up his cane and swung, slamming the handle into his lamp at his bed side, shattering the clay, breaking the gentle glow of light. Why?! He tried to do everything right! He started opening up! He started to be more nicer! He stopped doing all his reckless actions and he couldn't get the one thing he wanted?! He couldn't just have Wilson?! Wiping at his face quickly, he huffed deeply, his heart racing. "Damn it!" He hissed, his thigh protesting, threatening to keel over. He stopped taking his pills for Wilson!

"……." His eyes widen slowly at the thought. Quickly, as thou his hands were not fast enough, he dug into his coat pocket and pulled out his keys. Turning, he pulled his bedroom door back open and ran chest first into another body. Stumbling back a little, his hand catching the door frame. He looked down at a startled Wilson, looking up at him bewildered.

"House, I heard a crash, are you okay?"

"Peachy." He answered quickly before shoving past him. His cane struck the ground more heavy then normal as he made his way down the hall, his eyes catching a unimpressed Sam whom only leaned on her elbows. She didn't even rise from her stool. House glared at her before heading to the front door, snatching his motor cycle helmet from the coat rack.

"House? House! Where are you going?"

Wilson followed quickly, his eye brows shot up in worry. "Out. You're not the other one in need of some lovin." Yanking the door open, Wilson snatched his arm, stilling him. "House, something's bothering you, you have to talk to me." House pressed his lips, his eyes narrowing at the floor boards. The feel of Wilsons warm fingers burning his arm. His shoulder slumped a little before he began to turn back around. Looking up, he watched Wilson frown and remove his hand, his face showing relief that House stayed put. House had the sudden urge to wrap his arms around Wilsons back and pull him close, to breath in deep his shampoo, his scent. His fingers tingled to reach out and grab his friends face, to feel his skin, to remind him. That Wilson will always be there.

A click of glasses made House look up and the reminded burned deep into his brain. Sam held up her wine glass with a smile on her face, her fingers tracing the rim with such glee.

The rage and sorrow hit all at once and he snarled, turning away.

"If your going to fuck her tonight Wilson, I suggest to wrap little Jimmy up twice, who knows how many guys she let up her snatch after she divorced you."

Her outraged gasp gave House his cue to leave. Shoving his helmet onto his head, he left the loft, left the building and once he was on his bike.

He left the block. Let Wilson keep his selfish bitch, let him learn the hard way that his love was placed wrongly. Let him know that she would never love him, never truly see him, never understand him like House did.

* * *

'When did I become such a hypocrite? Double life, lies that you caught me in..' House swayed his head slowly to the radio that played out before him. His mind was free, his body felt so weightless. This, oh yes. This was bliss. Holding up his glass of bourbon, he sang with the female artist, his voice slurred and off tune. 'Trust me, I'm paying for it. With every move I die!'

He missed this place. His old apartment, so dark, so alone. So empty. Just like him. Smiling to himself, House slumped to the side, falling to the floor from where he had been sitting, enjoying the cold wooden polish that graced his cheek. Secretly, he had been keeping his old apartment. He never went back to it, only to get some o this belongings but he never stayed for more then a few hours at a time. Looking up, he rolled onto his back, the warm liquid he had drowned swirling in his throat and stomach, easing him, calming him. He missed this feeling.

Raising his glass into the air, he sung out, splashing the copper fluid over the glass rim to the floor.

"I have destroyed our love, its gone! Payback is sick, its all my fault…"

He stopped for a moment before lowering the glass, letting it click lightly beside his hip. The music blaring from his stereo. "I'm dancing.. With tears in my eyes, just fighting.." He couldn't finish the song. Tilting his head to the side, his vision blurred with another fresh round of tears, he searched. When his eyes connected with an old friend, his dry lips gave a sad smile. His old friend, someone he could always trust. Someone he could always rely on. Sure he messed up a time or two, but never left House for another.

Reaching out, his fingers curled around the familiar orange bottle, closing his eyes to the echoing rattle of pills that rested inside. Popping the cap off, he poured his old friends out onto the floor, letting them click, swirl lightly before him. Dropping the bottle, he touched each white pill lightly, tenderly before picking two up. He gave up everything in hope for a better future.

It only proved, everybody did lie. Why should he force himself to change, when people he needed never did? Parting his lips, he slipped them onto his tongue, tasting the sweet bitterness before gulping them down. Going limp back on the floor, he closed his eyes and let his mind reel, let his body soar and let his heart go numb once again. He was happier drugged up anyway.

At least this way, when Wilson leaves him behind.

It wont hurt.

* * *

'_I'm fading, I'm broken inside. I've wasted, the love of my life! I'm losing it! _

_With every move I die….'_


	3. Chapter 3

/

Do you remember being seven and finally getting that puppy you always wanted?

That sudden rush of joy, of excitement. Holding his wriggling body against your own as it lapped at your face in sloppy kisses. You swore to do all the things you promised, your parents reminding you: in order to keep him, you must take care of him.  
At first, it isn't bad. You take him outside, play with him. Take him for a walk, show him off to your friends. Feed him, bath him. It's like a dream come true, but soon, it becomes a bother.

Those walks become too long and you want to go home. The time spent playing with him could have gone to your other friends. Taking care of him becomes too much and you begin to think it was a bad choice. The second you think that, you wonder what to do. He loves you, he runs to you more then anyone else, he plays and tugs on your jeans for attention. He sleeps in your bed, sits at the door and waits just for you. But you're seven, you don't have the attention span to spend every waking second with a puppy. So you do what all kids do:

Pawn him.

Perhaps your parents will take over and take care of him for you, just so you can run outside and play by yourself. You talk one of your friends into walking him for you just so you can sit down and play cards. You forget to feed him for a few days, forget to bath him. Its okay though, because he still runs to you, still barks in greeting and kisses your face.

Puppies will always love their masters, will always run to them. So children can forget and pawn them off on others, cause they know. They will always come back.

Did Wilson think he was a puppy?

House took another burning swallow from his bottle, his body sluggish as he walked back to his loft. All week. ALL WEEK, House had spent every night with someone new. First it was Taub and his sorry cheating ass. He has a fucking wife who LOVES him and he STILL takes the stupid chances to screw it up! Hell, if it were himself, House would go straight home and make hot, sweaty pig sex to her. He would make her scream every night for the fact she loved him enough to stay at his side. Just like how Stacy used to.  
A forgotten pain flared in his chest from the thought of his old love. A flare that was put out with another gulp of his best friend, Captain Morg. The next night was 13, though he had to admit, the night was mostly amusing for the fact that 13 got drunk off her ass due to the free drinks she kept receiving. Damn, next time he should ask her to work that in his favor and score some bottles for him.

Then to find out that Wilson, his best friend, his room mate, was going out of his way to PAY his team mates to hang with him… Basically telling them to take House off his hands 'cause he wanted them empty and ready for when that curly blond -headed bitch turned his way. Yes they had problems, problems they needed to talk about. Not just Wilson and House, but Sam as well. If Sam was going to be over every day then House wanted to put some rules down. He didn't want to hear their love making, not when it hurt so much. He didn't want to watch them be all lovey dovey when Wilson couldn't do that with him. But, like always, instead of talking to him or forcing House to have dinner with him and Sam in order to work something out,

Wilson just pushes him off onto another.

The straw that broke the camel's back was the night Foreman and Chase took him out. Chase didn't even hide the fact that Wilson paid them, which hurt House. Hurt him deep. The whole night, House felt like he was faking, singing along with Foreman as Chase strummed vocally, the song 'Midnight Train to Georgia'. Even though the two were having a blast. House felt empty. Disappointed. With a click of his glass with the others, he cheered Wilson's name.

That was the motto House made, that Wilson had stopped caring for him.

The night House finally gave in and stopped playing along with Wilson's ploy was when Cuddy asked him out to eat. He could see it, the guilt, the worry in her eyes. She didn't want to eat with him, she didn't even think about hanging out with him. No, she was only there because of Wilson; because Wilson was having Sam over and he wanted another night of no House…

Instead of a bar, House got slammed at his own desk and taxied his way home. Wilson was trying to push him out of his life. With pressed lips, House struggled with his keys, trying to get them into the lock. He won't give up. Wilson was worth the fight, was worth the pain. No matter how much Wilson turned away, how much he pushed, House will keep coming back, 'cause he knows. One day, Wilson will look at him and open his arms. On that day, House will finally get the love and happiness his heart so badly needs.  
He'll keep running to him. Like that damn puppy.

/

A stumble caused a sudden crash, leaving Wilson to jerk and look up from his mid night snack. He watched with a weary sigh as House slowly appeared, cane gone, his coat shrugged off, his hands struggling to support his boneless body, to walk down the main hall of the loft.

There he stood. The best doctor in all of New Jersey.

Drunk off his ass.

"Did we always have that flower thing there?" He slurred, looking over his shoulder, confused. Wilson sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose to rid himself of the slowly crawling head ache. "I take it you smacked the center piece."  
"It's a stupid center piece."  
"Sam liked it."  
House's lips twitched for a moment before he began to move towards his room. "That's why it's stupid."  
"House, we need to talk."  
His friend ignored him, making his way pitifully to his room. "Can't, too drunk. Won't remember in the morning."  
"I'm just going to have to repeat everything again like always." Putting his food down, he chased after him, his eyes narrowed. "What is wrong with you?"  
"I'm drunk. You remember those times right? Late on my couch 'cause your wife kicked you out because of, well you know, cheating?"  
"It's not going to happen again, but you shouldn't be doing this!"  
"Doing what?" House snapped, spinning around to hiss at Wilson, causing his friend to step back.  
"This! You're trying to guilt me into feeling sorry for you, into feeling sorry for wanting to be with Sam! It won't work House, I like her! What you're doing is unfair!"  
"Unfair?" House whispered, his glossy blue eyes rimmed red from the whiskey. He gripped the frame of his bedroom door tightly, his nails sinking into wood. "Unfair?" He stated again, this time with more feelings. More rage. Wilson saw it on his face, the twisted drunken hate, his lips bared over his clenched teeth. "Unfair?" Pushing away from the doorframe, he approached Wilson with such force that his friend stepped back, his hands lifting up quickly to stop him from getting any closer.

"You want to talk about unfair? Fine! YOU'RE being unfair! You're suppose to be helping me! Sleeping with your bitch of an ex -wife ISN'T helping me!"  
"House that's-"  
"SHUT UP!" His fist struck out, slamming into the painted wall that Wilson just now noticed he was backed into. "Shut up!" House repeated, his body trembling. "Why can't you go to her place, huh? Why here? Why is it always here? Every morning I wake up to those sounds, every NIGHT I have to listen to your fucked up romance. What about Amber? When did you stop talking to Amber?"  
Wilson's eyes narrowed as hurt covered his face. "Don't bring her into this House."  
"You weren't suppose to bring anyone into this." House hissed. Punching the wall again more lightly, he leaned against it, his other hand soon joining its pair. There they stood, Wilson pinned to the wall, House blocking both his exits with his arms. "You were just suppose to be with me. Just me…"  
Wilson frowned at the wait as House bowed his head, a breath away from touching their foreheads together. Wilson knew House was a hard man to get along with. He knew a lot better then anyone else that nothing was ever easy. A burning spark kicked in his chest making Wilson suddenly urge to reach out, to touch House's weary face. His friend, his best friend. He looked so down, so lost. After all these months of living with him, he'd never seen his friend so twisted with pain or drunk out of his mind.  
It wasn't healthy…  
It wasn't fair..

"Sam's moving in."

House's body jerked, like a whip to his back. He didn't lift his head, but simple\y kept it bowed, his eyes focused on the ground.  
House wanted to punch him, wanted to throw something at him. For the past week Wilson had paid his team to take him out, paid them to be his friend… Wilson didn't want him around any more. The dull feeling of his body was beginning to fade; the booze, the drugs, the insanity. Sam was moving in. That bitch won. His shoulders trembled, tears filling his eyes. How many more times? How many more times will House have to fight with Wilson's girlfriends to have a guy night? How many more times does he have to bite his cheek and wait, how many times must he hug himself to sleep, drink away the pain of knowing Wilson will never pick him over anyone else? He would be alone.

….What was he kidding… He was alone.

"I need you to… House?"  
Wilson watched as House pulled away, his arms falling back to his side. His steps were heavy, his face lost. Something was wrong. Reaching, Wilson touched his arm but his friend only jerked away, his steps retreating, taking him closer to his room. "I give up." House whispered.  
"House… Don't make it sound like that."  
"I give up." House whispered again, his hand reaching, touching the cold doorframe. He gave up, no more. He was sick of trying to get Wilson to see, to have him understand. Wilson needed him in his life and yet, Wilson didn't want him there. Wilson turned a blind eye to House's want. To his love. All he wanted was to be at Wilson's side. To sit there and laugh, to drink. To gossip or even be silent. He just wanted to be there.

But now, that spot was taken. That spot that felt so right, so warm, that spot that made him so happy, that took away his pain. That spot was now filled with a golden haired being with faded blue eyes. There was no more room for House.  
"House, we can still hang out."  
"No, we can't." House muttered. His chest, he felt nothing. Was his heart even beating? Wilson approached him slowly, like a mother to a frightened child. "It'll be different this time."  
"You always say that." House responded. Taking another step back, Wilson watched as House turned his back to him, his left hand gripping the door tightly. "I give up."  
Wilson didn't understand why he felt like someone pulled the rug out from under him. He watched as House's shoulders slumped and his eyes lowered to the floor, his fingers pulsing, gripping the door frame as though he didn't want to end it here.  
"House."  
"Remind me tomorrow." He stated inside. Closing his eyes, he shut the door. "I'll send for my stuff."

There Wilson stood, his arms hanging at his side. He watched the closed door for a few minutes, thinking, perhaps believing House would slam it back open and they could return to their bickering and fighting. One minute turned into two, two turned into five. House did not appear and Wilson was left, feeling for the first time. Alone.  
Letting out a sigh, Wilson turned and left, returning to the kitchen, leaving his friend behind. Not knowing, on the other side of the door, House sat lost, his arms hugging his knees tightly to his chest. Wilson will never know the suppressed sounds of sobs that left House's throat, muffled into his jeans. Wilson will never know how hard House would try to find sleep that night, knowing it will never come.

No… Wilson will never know how much House fought for him.  
Never know… How much House… loves him.  
Never know... How much Wilson had hurt him.

Wilson will never know that his little puppy gave up running back...

/

Edited by lucretiafly


	4. Chapter 4

'People believe in what they '_want_' to believe.'

/

House repeated that saying over and over and over again. No music zoned him in his apartment, no flicking lights of his muted TV to embrace him. Nothing. He didn't want his toys, his items to fill this empty gap that seemed to grow bigger and bigger with every passing minute.  
Wilson had actually done it. His best friend, the closest person he ever loved kicked him out of the loft only after a few months. House was on his best behavior, he tried he really did. He followed every damn thing his therapist told him to do and yet no matter what House did, it didn't stop the deed from happening. Wilson fell in love, AGAIN, and rushed into another relationship, AGAIN, and now he wanted to put his life and Sam first. Leaving House alone, forgotten.

'People believe in what they 'want' to believe.' He whispered to himself, remembering when Wilson caught him outside, giving him the address to the lost book Alvie had pawned. 'Move back in with me. Stay a while. Just to touch base.'  
House wanted to punch Wilson in the jaw, pussy footing around him. Acting like he was guilty, acting like he was giving up a lot just for House's sake. He didn't ask Wilson to do anything for him. Didn't ask him a damn thing.  
House covered his face with his hands, squeezing his pounding head tightly. He never asked for anything. He did without questioning… well he did question but he did it any way and look what he got.

He was back at his old apartment, watching everyone around him be happy. It was like someone went to his therapist and gave him notes in which to trick the 'Bad luck' House into turning himself into a normal human being, someone that you would not bother to think about twice, easily forgotten, would not make life as miserable as he once did. It was like Wilson snickered and clapped with glee at every passing day House did something on his list. Now, Wilson was happy with Sam, Cuddy was happy with Lucas. And House…  
House was alone.

'Believe… in what '_you_' want to believe.'

He never fought so hard to keep himself together as he did this week. Avoiding Wilson, just so he wouldn't break down crying, that his face wouldn't crack and suffer the pity Wilson would show if his friend witness House's breaking point. The case did nothing for him, it couldn't stop the squeezing in his chest, the sudden lack of saliva in his throat. The burn in his eyes that he tried to hide behind his sunglasses. He was pathetic, he was pissed. He didn't want to be alone.  
A bitter chuckle left his throat as his hands lowered, looking at the dry cracked paint that lingered still under his nails. He thought, just for a little bit, that he wouldn't be this way for long. Alvie was there and House believed that he was going to be okay. Sure Alvie was weird, strange even. Kept bursting into song at random. Kept running around like a kid on a sugar high. He followed House where ever he went, like a lost puppy seeking attention. Whatever House said for him to do, he did. Whatever House implied, Alvie jumped at the chance to finish. House liked having him around, like having someone who believed him, in him. Someone who walked at his side and was just as crazy as House was.  
He still remembered the day House saved Alvie, the hug he was given. He lied to the court in order to keep Alvie from being deported, but the main reason was... He lied to keep Alvie with him. Alvie's face when he found out what House did for him, melting the cold ice that surrounded his heart. That smile, so true, so warm. It made House smile back. The hug Alvie through at him, wrapping his arms around House's torso, burying his face into his chest. House felt that sudden rush of heat, the sudden fill of joy of having someone once again love you. He believed Alvie would stay and they would spend every day pushing one another. Alvie trying to sell his stuff, Alvie singing randomly, Alvie painting his place…  
As long as Alvie was there, House didn't care what happened to his apartment. Just as long as when House came home, Alvie was there to pounce him, there to hug him. There to fill those lonely nights.

The last night Alvie was with him, House chewed on the badly made food his new room mate had struggle to make, holding the plate to House with such pride only a man as crazy as him could have. House made a comment about it but Alvie only grinned and sat beside him with his own plate, eating away without a care in the world. House took a bite but sat there, his mind running wild. As long as Alvie was there…  
"Alvie.." House had muttered, making his new friend look to him, his mouth full to the point where his cheeks puffed out. House only chuckled at him, his face so clueless, he made House want to grab him and hug him, to kiss him. ".. Have… You ever been lonely?"  
Alvie smacked his lips when he gulped down the food, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Yup." He answered, kicking his feet a little on the floor. "When I left Mayfield, you know, took a little while. I left and went back home, before the immigration people came, I felt lonely. Like, no one would look at me, talk to me, cause you know. I'm crazy, crazy like a mofo, ready to throw down, ready to make a step down, ready to bust a move, you can't assume!"  
House smiled at the silly rap Alvie began to sing but continued on. "What did you do?"  
Alvie stopped, his face looking straight ahead. His lips pressed for a moment before he lifted his plate. He looked to House and what House saw made his stomach drop. Alvie looked at him, his eyes dancing with such warmth, such awe. "I came to see your casa."  
House saw the honesty in those eyes that he reacted before he had realized. Shoving his plate to the floor, he grabbed Alvie and pushed him down onto the couch. Alvie squeaked, quickly struggling, believing House was attacking him. His hands were quickly grabbed and their fingers laced. Alvie looked up at his friend with wide scared eyes, his lips parted in shock. House loomed over him, his body pinning the younger man's, his hands locking Alvie's own to the couch. Closing his eyes, House dipped his head, covering Alvie's lips lightly with his own. He felt Alvie's sudden jerk, pressing himself into the couch a little more, but House didn't give up. He kissed him more, brushing his lips across his own, tracing his bottom lip lightly with his tongue. He wanted to believe someone was with him, someone was happy with him.  
House felt Alvie tilt his head and feel his lips open. Breaking the kiss, House watched as Alvie looked up at him with a smile, pulling his hands from his grip, only to slide them slowly along his face.  
"Why House, I'm not that kind of girl."

House broke into a smirk before lowering himself again, returning to the kiss, taking greedily what Alvie offered. He tasted like no one he knew, his skin smelt spicy, hot. Clothing was ripped away and soon the room was filled with nothing but breathless gasps and stuttering moans, half spoken words.  
Alvie gasped and arched his back, his fingers gripping, scratching down House's forearm, trying to hold on, the pressure building. House gripping the couch's arm rest tightly, leaning his weight into it as his other hand angled Alvie's hips better for his thrust, pushing him deeper. This was what he wanted, what he believed.  
"Alvie." He panted, looking down at his friend, seeing him spread out, glowing in such a delight that House wanted to trace his tongue over every layer of bronze skin. His friend flinched and looked up, his pupils blown with lust, his lips swollen and plumped from House's kisses and nips. Letting the couch go, he grabbed Alvie's arm and pulled him up. He yelped out from the move, not wanting House to leave his body. House changed their positions, letting him lean back into the couch, letting Alvie straddle his lap, sinking back onto him, stretching his body back around his friend, taking him so fully that House had to groan, his toes curling into the carpet.

"Say you're happy." House whispered, his hands grabbing Alvie's hips, helping him with his movement. His friend cried out lightly, one hand grabbing House's good thigh, the other gripping the couch tightly that lingered behind Houses head. "Say you're happy with me." House whispered again, leaning up, brushing his lips along his friend's throat, tasting the salt, feeling the rushing heart beat. Alvie looked down upon him confused, his body twisted and burning with pleasure, wanting to break, needing to break. But House kept whispering to him, asking him, begging him to say those words that Alvie finally gave in and shouted, climaxing, spilling himself along House's chest.  
Afterwards, his spent body trembling, kept moving, trying to milk House, wanting him to finish as well. It didn't take long, Alvie reached over, wrapped his arms around House's neck and buried his face into the side of his throat, his hot breath brushing House's wet skin. Alvie whispered, his nails sinking deep into House's shoulder when the older man planted his good leg into the ground, pushing himself up, thrusting harder, deeper. Alvie whispered into his ear, causing House to throw his head back in a deep shout, causing his body to shatter and fill the younger man. House sat there spent, limp in bliss as Alvie held on, whispering over and over again into his ear.  
"I'm happy. I'm happy with you."

"Believe…. Just _Believe_."

House closed his fingers into a fist, trembling at the feel of the dry paint. The next day, House came home to an empty apartment. A note left on the coffee table. Alvie had left him high and dry. House's body felt rejected, his chest felt as though someone shoved their foot into him, knocking the wind out from his lungs, knocking him to the ground. In his fit of pure rage, at the despair of being tossed aside again. House took the paint Alvie had bought, the paint Alvie had pawned his stuff for. He took the paint, walked into the bathroom and poured it out into the bathtub. He didn't care if it ruined the plumbing. He poured it out and threw the empty bucket into the trash. He was left alone again, he was a moron to make himself do this. To make himself believe.

There was no one left. There was nothing House could do. He just wanted to disappear. Smiling sadly to himself, he felt that old feeling that he once had buried. That feeling of wishing, regretting choices he made. Regretting that he had lived after the bus crash.  
House found himself whispering, wishing he had stayed on that bus with Amber. Then he wouldn't had been left behind, lied to. Then he could have been pain free, he could have been happy.  
A knock on his door made him look up from his fists. He was stupid, he had changed himself so much, he couldn't get his own ego back. He couldn't shrug the world off anymore like he use too. The drugs, the booze, that helped him fight the world, fight the hurt, fight the love he had for Wilson. Now, he had nothing.  
"Believe.. What I want." He whispered, approaching the door. Opening it, he looked out at the young man behind it. The young man smiled up at him, soft brown hair, bright green eyes. He was dressed sharp, maroon button up shirt with a black jacket placed on top, dark blue jeans hugging his hips, flaring out down past his knees. He looked good.

"Hi. I'm Tony."

House nodded in a greeting, opening the door for his guest to walk in. 'Tony' walked in, glanced around the apartment for a second before turning back to House, a grin on those thin lips. "So, where you want to do this? You're not one of my regulars so I need to know what kind of stuff you're into."  
"I normally call for women." House muttered before waving him to the couch. Tony sat himself down, shrugging off his jacket. "Why the sudden change?"  
"Do you always talk this much with your other customers?"  
Tony nodded before brushing his hair back and unhooking the cuff links from his wrists. "How do you want me, Dr. House?'  
House walked to his TV set lightly, his fingers touching the black screen. "… I'm going to ask you to do something… weird. Don't freak out or anything."  
"If I freaked out about every 'weird' request I get, I wouldn't be working at this agency."  
House smiled to himself before digging into his pocket. "I'll pay you extra if you kept this to yourself, no telling your girlfriends when you go back." Pulling out a folded piece of paper, he tossed it to the young man, who caught it and opened it. Looking at the words, Tony only frowned. "You want me to-"  
"I called your agency and asked for the best. You have more customers then the others so that tells me, you've very good at your job but it also says you can fake very well."  
"I don't fake, Dr. House." Tony huffed, watching the older man snort.  
"I don't care if you faked with other guys. I don't care if you think it's stupid. I'm paying a pretty penny for your little ass so I expect my needs to be met. So, can you do it or do I have to show you the door?"  
Tony took a deep breath before shaking his head. Looking back down at the list, he read it over one last time before folding it back up. Looking up to House, he smiled to him softly, his hand patting the spot beside him. "Sit with me."  
"No." House uttered, his hand gripping his cane tightly.  
"Please? You look tired."  
"I'm always tired." House moved a little closer, watching with a careful eye as Tony rolled his sleeves to his elbow. "I bet, being a doctor and all."  
"Stop ass kissing."  
Tony shook his head laughing lightly before reaching out, grabbing House's wrist tenderly. House jerked but Tony held lightly, his thumb stroking, brushing his vein, his pulse. "Sit with me."  
House moved slowly, placing himself down beside the young man. Tony looked at him with a watchful eye, letting his wrist go the second House was fully settled on the couch. Moving a bit away, Tony grabbed House's arm and tugged, gesturing. House glared and pressed his lips but followed suit, laying down, resting his head lightly upon Tony's lap. His body was stiff, his hands gripping the couch, as if ready to leap up at any second. Tony watched, waiting for House to settle before lightly touching his shoulder. He heard House's sudden intake and felt him hold it. As gently as he could, Tony rubbed House's arm. His fingers tracing along his skin, feeling the tender flesh of an old bruise. He waited until he felt House begin to sag and the pressure on his lap grow. Reaching up, he stroked House's head, fingers running through his thin hair, petting him, calming him. House lay there in a daze, his body relaxed. Closing his eyes, one hand lifted to rest on Tony's knee, he squeezed lightly.  
"Say it." House muttered, feeling the tears fill his eyes. He was reduced to this. Everyone else was happy and with someone. While House… While he..  
"I'm happy with you." Tony whispered, letting House feel the husky note of warmth.

House was left… to believe what he wanted to believe.

"Say it again…"

/

/

Edited by lucretiafly 


	5. Authors Note

Authors note:

-laces fingers together- Due to the ending on the last Esp. 'Help Me' I find myself... in a pickle... It ended -struggles with right word- horrible for me. Don't get me wrong, loved the esp, the drama, the scenes with House and Hanna, I was getting such great ideas for the last chapter. But then the esp ended with House and Cuddy hooking up and all honestly, I can not make them work in my story so, sadly I might just have to end it with the fourth chapter and call it a day.

The only other way to get it to fit is to change the ending and make it like it didn't happen but I'd feel like I'm lieing to ya'll since every chapter I tried to keep true to the story line. So I ask for you're help. If you wish for me to keep to the story line, I can grit my teeth and bare it and hopefully it will not come out bad, or I can keep the theme and just 'twink' the ending of the esp. in order to keep the feel.

It up to ya'll. I'm at a dead end.

Love;

Freckle


	6. Chapter 5

No matter what you do, you never get what you want.

/

House stared silently at his reflection, his expression drained. Every cut, every smudge of dirt, he saw her: Hanna breathing, sobbing. Her grip holding tight, her voice crying out, begging him.  
_'Don't leave me in the dark!'_  
House bowed his head, closing his eyes tight. He was the only one who heard her. If he hadn't been sitting in that spot, he would never have heard the clang, he wouldn't have dug into the lower levels to find her, he would have never risked her leg and as the end result, kill her. His fingers squeezed the sink tightly, trying to drown that voice out.  
_'Please, stay with me.' _  
He was the only one who heard her. In her pain. How much she was like him and yet she was not. Like him, her cries and screams for help went unheard. Her attempts to seek aid doubted, leaving her alone in despair. Just like him. For years, no one heard his cries for help. For years, no one turned to dig for him, to reach out his or her helping hand.  
He didn't know why he dug. They told him there was no one there. No sounds, the dogs found no scent. No matter what he said, they ignored him and went back to the upper levels, leaving him alone to question. Should he dig? Should he leave? The next thing he knew, he was digging into the ground, finding tunnels, slipping his way through the rock and cement. What was he hoping for? What would he gain?  
Her face flashed in his mind making him shake his head, pressing his forehead against the mirror. Her face when he found her. So scared and yet so relieved. House just told himself, it was the doctor within himself that made him want to save her. That made him sink down and pick her up instead of seeking help. He touched her, calmed her, tried to see what state of mind she was in before finding out her worse problem.

Her leg was pinned.

Opening his eyes, House tilted his head back up, staring back into the mirror, looking back into his own eyes. That split second was all it took for House: Hanna reminded House of himself.  
Hanna was everything he was before his leg. He hated her in that second. She was just like him. She refused to let her leg be amputated, she refused to let him go away. Just how he was with Wilson. House hated her for that, so he treated her just like everyone else did. He walked away from her when she screamed. He lied to her when she asked for answers, he mocked her when all she wanted was someone to talk to. He was treating her the same way everyone was treating him.  
After that, he stopped. He felt ashamed with himself. This was a second chance; he would not let other people screw up her life, just like they screwed up his. He fought with Cuddy, fought with the fire department, demanding they save Hanna and her leg. House would stop at nothing just to make sure she had one person who stood beside her in her time of need.  
House made sure he was there.  
But it wasn't enough.

_'How bad will it hurt…?'_  
_'….Like nothing you ever felt before…'_

House ripped the mirror from the wall, slamming it into his bathtub in his guilt, tears burning his eyes. He could hear her screams, her sobs. Feel the bones break under the saw he used, feel the blood stinging his sleeves, his hands. He hurt her more than anyone else there because he thought, NO, he BELIEVED it would save her life!  
But it only cost her life… He killed Hanna.  
He killed himself.  
His fingers snatched the two bottles of pills he had hidden, tucked away safely behind the mirror. The familiar rattle making his lips curl in a painful smile. She did everything right and yet she died. House did everything wrong and yet he had to live. He had to stay here, in pain, suffering. He wanted it to stop, he wanted it to end. He just wanted SOMEONE!  
Slumping to the floor, he stared at his only friends, fingers brushing along the slick surface. He could just go back to how he was before. He could waste away to nothing and no one would care, right? He could walk through the day with a fake smile plastered across his face, just as long as he wasn't bothering anyone. He could be dying slowly in front of everyone's eyes, but as long as he smiles.. No one would care.  
But he knew, her eyes would be there… Those lost eyes. Dull, lifeless, judging.  
Tears slid down his face slowly as he poured the pills into his shaking hand. He just wanted to be happy, was that too much to ask? Was that really too much to ask for? To pray for? All he wanted was his old life before his leg. He wanted Stacy to be here when he came home, to kiss him, to hold him at night. He wanted Wilson beside him on the couch, he wanted to mess with Wilson, get him all in a huff. He wanted to walk without a damn cane! He wanted his old life back!  
He just wanted something!  
Lifting his hand, he hesitated, his brain yelling at him to hold back, to remember the ordeals he went through before. But his heart, his pain begged him to taste those sweet candies of nothingness once again and finally let him be free. With a flick of his wrist, he brought his palm to his mouth.  
"House."  
'Oh cruel fate, how you mock me!' He thought.  
House stared at the pills before him, an inch from his dry lips. All he had to do was tilt his hand up and he could finally have that one day of no pain.  
"House."  
That damned voice. "You going to leap over here and stop me?' He asked angrily, his eyes sweeping away to stare at his uninvited guest.  
Cuddy stood before him, her lips pressed together. "I can't stop you. It's your choice if you want to go back to drugs."  
House's mind reeled, kicking in onto auto pilot. One second he was on the floor bickering, the next he was standing, pinning Cuddy to the wall, his lips seeking hers, drinking from her the love he so desperately needed.  
_"I don't LOVE you!"_  
_"I'm moving on! Wilson is moving on!"_  
_"I'm done… done with this… Done with you." _  
House parted his lips gently from her own, feeling her fingers curl into his hand, squeeze it.

"You love me?" He whispered, his eyes staring at the bathroom wall behind her. Cuddy just nodded, pressing her forehead into his cheek, pressing her body closer to his. "I can't stop thinking about you." She confessed, making House's heart twist and squeeze. His chest screamed for him to accept it. His brain told him to keep his mouth shut and just take it.  
But he couldn't.  
"I don't believe you…"  
Cuddy moved away a bit to look up to him, confusion on her face. "House, I LOVE you, I always have." She cupped his face, her fingers brushing along his beard tenderly.  
"But, Lucas."  
"I broke it off, I want you not him."  
"You had everything, a kid, a new home, husband. Why throw it away?"  
He looked down at her, watching her eyes swirl with pain and for a split second, doubt. Her hands slipped down and gripped his shirt, her eyes breaking their contact with his to stare at his chest, her body trembling. "B-Because I love you. Because you need me."  
There. House's heart laughed, it laughed with a bitter echo as he watched tears fill those hurt eyes of hers. Cuddy came to him…  
Because House needed someone.

The display of honesty, of his confession to Hanna caused Cuddy to take back her love for Lucas and give it to House. Why? Because she truly loved him and only him? Or was it perhaps, that she had to for him, she would risk her own relationship just like Wilson had, in order to keep House away from the dark. Could he handle that? Knowing once again, he had someone to love just because he forced them into that corner. Wilson was his proof, Wilson was his result.  
Was Cuddy… turning into his next Wilson?  
With shaking hands, he touched Cuddy's forearms, squeezing them tightly. Could he do this to her? Could he take the pity she was giving him, just to escape the darkness? He bowed his head, touching his lips lightly once more to her own. Could he sleep, knowing she was next to him just so he wouldn't be alone? He brushed his nose with hers lightly, his lips touching her forehead, her hair.  
Could he live…knowing she pitied him more then she actually loved him?  
"Go home."  
Cuddy's eyes snapped open wide as House let her go. Her lips parted in disbelief, her mind baffled. "H-House I just confessed my love to you!"  
"I know." He replied, turning away from her.  
"You finally got what you been pining for and you're just going to throw me away?"  
House closed his eyes tightly, his fingers clenching into a fist. His heart wanted Wilson, his body wanted Cuddy. His whole being wanted someone to be with him.  
But his mind didn't want the pity.  
"Apologize to Lucas, tell him it was stress due to the accident."  
"House this isn't funny."  
"It's not… Cuddy. I can't change."  
"I don't want you to!" She snatched House's arm, squeezing it tight, her eyes searching for his own, her lips forcing a smile. "It might take time, but I can accept it. We can make this work."  
"No… No, we can't." He confessed. Looking back, he touched the hand that held his arm lightly, his dirt covered fingers brushing along her knuckles.  
"Why?" She whispered, letting her tears fall.  
"Because… You're not who I want."

/

A bottle clicked upon the wooden floor, rolling downward along the length of the couch it fell from. The room was silent except for the deep pants that left the couch.  
House lay there silent and still, his eyes moving lazily along the ceiling, his lips a smile. His mind danced, feeling the warmth of fingers brushing through his nerves. He felt… so much better.  
Closing his eyes, he groaned, his back arching from the couch in a stretch, his arms rising up over his head. He felt like a lazy fat cat napping in the afternoon sun. Opening his eyes, he raised a brow at his left arm, noticing something strange. Touching the rubber tube that was tied around his forearm, he chuckled at the shock of seeing it before tossing it aside.  
The color red made him frown as he lifted his hands. His knuckles were bleeding. He frowned for a moment before he gasped in awe. He could feel the throbbing, but not the pain. His mind flashed back and he only settled into the couch, his hands going limp at his side. That's right. Cuddy left. He confessed his secret to her and she left him, perhaps to fix her bond with Lucas, maybe to cry? He didn't know.  
After she was gone and he was alone, he suddenly felt... nothing. No sadness, no happiness. Just, nothing. A few minutes went by and the bubbling emotion in his stomach began to rise.  
Rage.  
He finally got want he asked for but it was from the wrong person. He wanted Wilson, he wanted his best friend. Lips a snarl, he yelled. He gave Cuddy up in order for her to be happy but what will it get him? More loneliness, more bitterness. He would be left alone in the dark until Wilson chose to turn around and reach out his hand. Until Wilson was tired of his new fling with Sam and seek him out for a replacement to the fading thrill. House had to wait in the darkness, just like Hanna.  
With a cry, he tore into his apartment, ripping frames from the wall, throwing his books to the ground. He had to suffer alone and wait. He had to keep calling out for help. Keep asking Wilson to have lunch with him, to sneak out for a night at his place. House had to wait, with his leg pinned to the ground, to the pain, until Wilson finally dug through the tunnels to pull him back out.  
He would always be alone.  
Closing his eyes, he let his mind fade and his body sag. He felt pressure upon his shoulder but he ignored it. He was at ease, nothing could hurt him in this state of mind. Something warm traced along his forehead making him groan in need. This was nice. In this world, nothing could harm him, nothing could lie to him. In this world, there was no pain.  
He chuckled at the buzzing he heard in his ears: a mutter. A call. A voice was brushing along his mind, leaving behind sweet tingles.  
_"Hey… You okay?"_  
His foot slipped off the cushions, landing with a heavy thump on the floor. His toes touched the little glass bottle that rattled and rolled away, tapping on the metal leg of his coffee table. The bottle bared its name to the empty room, rocking gently, tapping lightly against the metal rod.  
Morphine.  
Forgotten, it could only lay as House chuckled, his face turning, pressing his cheek into the warmth, into that gentlest of caresses, breathing in the deep calming scent of coconut.

"I'm happy.."

/

/

Edited by  
lucretiafly 


	7. Chapter 6

**I've got a few months before the next season comes out so... I'm just gonna carry this on. If you liked the ending in the last chapter, then you don't have to read on but I will promise, there will be hilson. I have a plan and in the up coming chapters, there will be a very jealous Wilson and a singing House. Oh my! Thank you all for reading my latest chapters and reviewing it, it's made me honored!**

//

//

''_Stars shining bright above you." _

It was such a good feeling. Like you jumping head first into a cold pool on a hot summer day. The cold water surrounding you, tingling your nerves. House felt so cozy that he smiled. He needed to get back on morphine more often if the results was this. The scents around him tugged on his taste buds that he couldn't help a groan. There was so many, sweet cinnamon, apples, vanilla beckoning, making his mouth water.

"_Night Breezes seem to whisper, 'I love you.'." _

House tilted his head back into his pillow, my god. The sounds. They were beautiful. Little scrapes against his brain making him shiver, a gentle hum making his skin tighten, goose bumps covering his body. If he opened his eyes, his brain believed he would open them to an open field somewhere far away. A field filled with green warm grass and a bright blue sky for him to lay under. A place he could relax and smile and forget about everything.

"_Help me…"_

House frowned then, a voice was creeping into his cozy safe room, leaving behind a trail of emptiness and bleak. The voice got louder along with the background. The warm music was being covered by screams, sirens ringing out. People were talking all at once that House covered his ears in a gasp. Saw's buzzing, jack hammers banging into his brain making him yell out. The silence faded, leaving him in the darkness, his hands trembling as they remove themselves from his ears. What happened? Before his eyes, like a strike of a match, Hanna's face appeared before him. _"Help me."_ She mouthed before the light in her eyes faded. House shock his head, he tried to save her. He did everything he could.

One by one, the sounds came back. One by one the pain began to flare up in his leg, in his chest. He was being submerged in the pit of his break down that all he could do was fall and cry out.

His eyes snapped wide, body jerking up right.

House sat there on his couch panting deeply, his shirt soaked in sweat. His trembling hands gripping the couch tightly, his heart racing wildly. He searched, looking for Hanna, for her face before sagging into the couch's back. Just a dream. The night had given way to day break, shining in on his after math. House looked around and frowned at the sight. His living room was trashed, books flung, CD's cracked and picture frames shattered. He didn't remember a lot of what he did last night but he knew he was not looking forward to the clean up. Bowing his head, his right hand covered his face, he wiped away the sleep from his eyes. What was he going to do now?

"_Birds singing in the sycamore tree.'_

House lowered his hand, his eyes wide. Someone was singing. In his apartment. Turning around slowly, he finally heard the sounds he thought he was dreaming. The clicking of metals in the kitchen, the tune of someone's voice. The mouth watering scents of food wafting in the air. His lips parted a little. Was Wilson here? Quickly House got up, his legs buckling when he stood forcing him to catch himself on the coffee table, pins and needles shooting up his spine. Wilson was here! He was in his kitchen cooking him breakfast just like old times! House pushed himself to stand, limping quickly. Wilson must be playing his iphone since that voice was way to feminine. Grabbing the frame, he walked in, his breath coming in pants, his free hand gripping his thigh tightly. "Wilson?"

House tried to keep down the bubble sob that rose in his throat when his eyes fell on his target. House was a fool, stupid to think this way. A women turned around, a women House had never seen. She blinked at him with her large brown eyes, her dark chestnut hair was thick with curls that were pulled up in a twisted bun upon her head. Her lips were thin but gave a smile. A stranger was in his kitchen cooking on his stove.

"Who are you?"

"You must be Dr. House." She said instead. Turning her back to him, she scraped at the pan, flipping the bread that was frying. House let his eyes gaze along her, his head tilting. She was a pretty one. Not to skinny, had curves in her hips and chest. She wore white pj bottoms that swirled with black and hot pink designs. A white tank covering her torso but a wore a gray half sweater to cover her shoulders and mid back. She looked like she rolled right out of bed.

"Yeah, you know me, how about returning the favor." He snapped. She only sighed at him, pushing the toast onto a plate beside her on the counter top. "So rude." She replied making him groan. "Says the stranger who is in my apartment uninvited."

"But I bring apple toast!"

House frowned when she approached his dinner table, sliding the plate neatly before him. A mug of coffee was laid out with napkins and sliver wear already out, an glass of orange juice placed beside his coffee mug. She smiled to him worriedly, her fingers brushing along the table.

"Did Cuddy send you?" He whispered. House wanted to crawl back to the couch and curl himself back up. No one would come to him and check on him for their own worry. No… It had to be someone sending them, had to be over guilt. He should of known Cuddy would send someone.

"Cuddy? No, I found you on the couch."

She waved him over, pulling the chair out for him to sit. House stood his ground until she moved away, filling up her own plate. "So you broke in?"

"No, you left the door unlock."

"And that gave you permission? How long have I been knocked out?"

She poured herself some juice before slipping into the chair across from him. "I'm Annabelle." Looking up to him, she gave a small smile before reaching her hand across the table, offering it to him. "I'm your neighbor."

House sat back in his chair, staring at her like she lost her mind. What kind of women walks into a strangers house and cooks food for him? Oh god, did Alvie leave a note to all the nut jobs in Mayfield to come here? With a mutter, he took her hand and shock it before looking at his plate. "So why are you here?"

Cutting into her toast, it might be French toast but with apple [weird] she stared at her food sighing. "I moved in a month ago and the land lord told me about you."

"He lies, I really do limp cause my dick is that big."

She looked at him shocked for a moment before shoving her cut piece into her mouth muttering. "Well, he said you haven't been around lately, said I should be thankful, but last night when I was getting ready to sleep, I started hearing these sounds. Like someone was breaking in."

"And you came in during what you thought was a break in?"

"I was going to call the cops but I hear yelling… Like someone was crying."

House pressed his lips and picked up his coffee cup, drinking down the hot liquid. Damn, so he was crying. Ann just sat there staring at him sadly before giving a smile. "When I heard the noises stop I came over. Knocked on your door, found it unlock and then I found you on the couch. You seemed pretty out of it."

"Rough night." He muttered making her nod.

"Morphine will do that to you."

His head jerked up, staring at her. How the hell did she know? Was she a doctor? Damn it he knew it! Cuddy did send her! Before he could snap, she pointed to the end of the table, letting his eyes settle on a small object he over saw. His half filled bottle of morphine.

"Found that next to you. Kind of put two and two together."

"… Still, coming into a strangers place unprotected? Stupid move."

A sound snapped into his ear making him drop his fork. It was a quick crackle, like someone took bubble wrap and gave it a quick twist. Ann was leaning with her left able on the table, her right hand holding up a hand held taser. She squeezed the device again causing the metal to spark and small bolt of lighten snap out at him before she placed it back beside her on the table. "Never can be to careful."

House's jaw dropped a little, who the hell was this women. Looking back to his food, he poked at it, watching her carefully, waiting for a move, waiting for something.

She just sat in front of him eating, her head nodding side to side slightly, bouncing to the music in her head no doubt. This gave him a chance to see her more close up. She was very pretty, she would admit that. Tan skin, little freckles on her nose and cheeks. She had natural beauty that women would kill for, she hardly had to out any make-up on to make her desirable.

Looking down at his plate, he cut off a small piece, his mind thinking back. She must of walked in on him when he was starting to pass out. Through his fuzzy haze of his drug, he noticed that someone was talking to him before the darkness seeped in.

Ann looked to her watch before pushing herself up. Picking up her plate, she walked to the sink, "Well I have to get going. Got to get ready for work."

He didn't reply but just sat, holding the small piece of toast on his fork. House truly didn't know what to do today. So many things happened… Bad things. He lowered the fork, suddenly feeling like curling back up in a tight ball. There was no one to run too, he was alone again and this time… He feared he would stay that way.

A gentle hand touched his shoulder stirring him from the darkness of his thoughts. Turning his head, he looked up at her, seeing her face covered with concern. "You going to be alright?"

His lips parted to lie. He would say yes and she would leave. Then he could go back to his room and strangle himself with his thoughts, with Hanna's face, with Cuddys words from last night. He wont be able to sleep, he couldn't go into work. He reeked to high heaven and his body hurt so bad, both body and mind. Everything was wrong and he struggled to get the lies out. Be a smart ass, be crabby. Be who you always are. Who you're suppose to be!

"…No I'm not."

Her fingers squeezed his shoulder lightly. House felt the pit in his stomach begin to grow, the contact, it make his body jump, his skin tingle. When her grip loosened, his hand snatched her own quickly, keeping hold. He didn't even know her, but he wanted her touch. He needed her touch. Closing her eyes tightly, he took a shaky breath.

"Do.. You want to be alone?"

Why would House want that? He wanted ANYTHING else but that. The voices inside of him whispered to him, telling him to just send her away, he deserved to be alone. He just had to wait it out, wait for Wilson… Just Wait.

"A crane fell on a building yesterday.." The words were spilling out from his lips before he could stop them. His chest tightened, his eyes burn. He needed to tell someone, he needed someone to sit with him and listen. He didn't want to be alone.

Her free hand touched his own, brushing along the cracked blood, the scabs.

" So, What happened?"


	8. Chapter 7

Wilson lowered the folder he was holding, a frown on his lips. He couldn't find House. He stood outside his friends office, watching the shadows being cast threw the glass door. He planned on checking up on his friend but find out from Foremen that House was not here to be found, not only that, but refuses to pick up the phone. Wilson began to worry, Foremen told him how House had yelled at him when he left. He even hinted to Wilson that something was wrong. Wilson went to Cuddy to see if she heard anything, he only found her buried behind her desk with stacks of paper and a puffy face, like she had been crying. Before he could get a word out, she asked him to leave and that it was just not a good time to chat.

Squeezing his folder tightly, he pressed his lips. He should go over there during his lunch break and check up on him. Wilson just wanted to make sure he was taking care of himself. After Hanna's death, Wilson wouldn't be surprised if House took a few days off, but it never hurt to touch base right?

He turned, thinking of where he should ordered food from to present to his friend when a voice called out to him. Turning, his shocked face went to a delighted smile as Sam approached him, her coat in hand. He accepted the quick kiss before she took his arm, whispering her sudden change of plans. Wilson's chest melted at her touch and he only turn with her, leading her to his office.

All thoughts of House suddenly disappeared.

//

//

"You know I'm a doctor right?"

"Really? Like from scrubs? I like Dr. Cox, bad boys get me hot!"

"I'm taking your father didn't go to enough of your cheer leading games huh?"

"I was more into dancing really."

House sighed heavily as his hands worked a thick piece of dough. Just behind him, soft chatter went on as random people made orders, the squeals of children who poked at glass cases and begged for a treat. House was forced to work in a bakery!

After he told Ann what happened to him the day before, she looked at him quietly, her eyes glowing with such concern and sadness. Like a snap, she clapped her hands and stood up, declaring to his living room and to his startled face.

"You can't be by yourself today."

An hour later, House stood in front of a mom and dad kind of bakery that he had actually gone into a time or two. He came to find out Annabelle ran this store and was gifted in the arts of culinary. Like a snap, she walked into the bakery where three other people were setting up and declared that House was going to be joining them today. He scuffed and made a notion to disagree but Ann just glared back at him, pointing her index finger and snapped.

'You can't be alone today.'

He tried to talk her into letting him sit at one of the small tables just outside her bakery and just watch, but she only shock her head and reminded him, he couldn't be alone. She was like a damn tick, attaching herself to his side.

Yet oddly enough… it didn't bother him as much as he let on.

Tearing a piece of dough he was working on, he began to roll, looking over to where Ann stood, handing a child one of her fresh baked cookies. She wore a floral print sundress, white with yellow petals and brown swirls that he assumed were stems. A dark brown knitted cropped sweater covering her shoulders. She looked just like those moms from back in the 50's. Her long thick hair was pulled up into a messy bun, long curls bursting out from one side to another. Yet her smiling face made it look cute no matter how you looked at it.

House looked down at himself, sighing at his own attire. His shower was littered with glass from his broken mirror that he couldn't clean himself up fully. Scrubbing down in his sink was as close as he was gonna get for the mean time. When Ann returned, dress in her new attire, he greeted her with one of his rock graphic shirts, jeans and jacket. He didn't know why he was willingly going with her, he did fight her, saying he didn't want to go unless it was a strip club, then he would gladly help her earn her rent money. She only shock her head at him tsking before yanking his arm to follow, promising him he would have fun, if not, he got free food.

The free food he was loving. Ann told him since he was her guest and she owned the place. He could eat whatever he wanted, just as long as it didn't kill her business. For shits and giggles, he stole a tray of freshly baked caramel delights with oatmeal crusts. Ann caught him when he was half way around the counter. House played innocent and snuck the tray behind his back and admitted he had no idea what she was looking at him for.

At that time, a little girl of five pointed at him yelling, "He's hiding it behind his back!"

House glared down at her, much to the childs delight before pointing at her with his cane stating, "Now see, this is why we should hate kids!"

He chuckled when Ann walked over and pushed him back behind the glass case. As punishment, he now had to prepare the sweet rolls.

"I think my talent is being wasted here. I feel my I.Q. dropping." He sighed, tossing one of the dough rolls onto a wax sheet covered tray.

"How are they coming?" Ann walked up beside him grinning. He held his arms open to his work, over kill sure, but he rose a brow. "Not bad huh? Who says baking is hard?"

" So full of yourself hm?" She chuckled before munching on one of the heart shape sprinkles from a bowel she was holding. "I'm about to go on my lunch break in a few minutes. You wanna join me?"

"Do I have a choice?" He grumbled, rolling another ball as she shrugged. "Not really, but I thought I be nice and let you feel like you did."

"In that case, I get to pick where we eat."

"Coolio! Let me go swipe my purse."

House blinked, "Coolio? What are you twelve?"

"How do you know I'm not?"

"That ass say's legal."

Ann's face went red before she huffed at him marching away. House busted out laughing when he caught her hands reaching down to smooth her dress over her rump trying to judge the size herself.

Alone, House pinched at the dough before letting his mind wonder. So far, he was doing okay. His leg throbbed and sent little tingles of pain that forced him to stop but it wasn't as bad as before.

He began to wonder who Ann was again. Every time House finished a task and was starting to let his mind wonder, she would pop out of no where and push something else on him. Every project she gave him, he did without really arguing. He told himself it was cause it was different from what he normally does. Next he told himself it was because he got to eat free food and check out hot moms who came in to buy cup cakes. Soon House began to feel… not like himself. That scared him.

Tilting his head back, he took a deep breath, letting the aroma of bread over power him. His body began to tingle and relax, his mind began to fog over. This was what he needed, to get away from the hospital. To get away from death. To get away.. From Wilson.

"House?"

House stiffen at his name, his eyes slowly opening. He knew that voice. His heart began to race as he turned, his finger squeezing the dough he held, squirting it through his fingers. His eyes met Wilson's wide brown orbs and for a split second, House began to smile.

Wilson was there! Wilson was coming to check up on him, he did care. Wilson might not love him like House did but his friend held him close enough. House chuckled to himself inside, Wilson must have been combing through the town trying to track him down. He shouldn't have doubted, House shouldn't had told himself that Wilson would never come. Wilson would always be there.

Right?

"Wait, I changed my mind James, grab me a blue berr- House?"

Just like that, House's chest cracked. Behind Wilson, Sam came out, like a evil nymph from hell, giggling and smiling at his pain and demise. Looking away, House began to roll the ruined dough in his hands, trying to take his mind away from the sting of idiocy. What the hell was wrong with him? Of course Wilson wasn't looking for him. No matter how much he wished. It was all by chance. Wilson and Sam were on their lunch date and by chance, Sam wanted a muffin and Wilson, being the loving devoted boyfriend, offered to buy her own. The bitch. Wilson, by chance, walked into this bakery on the same day House was there.

Damn, he was going to crack again.

"House, what are you doing here?" Sam asked, her hand taking Wilson's arm lightly. House pressed his lips to keep his insults back. "Sam. Wilson." He greeted sourly, tossing the dough back onto the counter.

"House, why are you here?" Wilson repeated. God, House hated him right now. He looked so damn perfect. His brown hair combed, those eyes so wide, so warm, House just wanted to sink into them. "Oh you know, I just woke up today and my gay side just yelled, ' I need to bake!' so… here I am!"

"Everyone is worried about you." Sam offered, digging into her purse. House gasped, putting his hand onto his chest, "My god, skip work one day and suddenly everything goes to hell."

"Stop deflecting_, _its just after what happened yesterday, I think we have a right to freak out." Wilson sighed, pinching his nose lightly. "Did you even call Cuddy and tell her you weren't coming in?"

"Nope." House popped, a grin on his face.

Wilson groaned deeply as Sam rubbed his back. "House, take the apron off."

"Why Wilson, I have to be married first."

"Like that would happen." Sam muttered, earning a light slap on her hand from Wilson. House took a step back as Wilson walked over, "Come on, we need to get to go."

"No, _you _need to get to work. I'm already at mine."

"House stop goofing off."

"Hey, do you know how hard it is to ice a damn cookie?"

"House."

"I don't want to go Wilson." House whispered. Wilson paused for a moment before reaching out, his hand snatched House's wrist. "House we need to talk about this."

House looked away, his heart twisted. He wanted Wilson to find him but not like this. He wanted his Wilson, his best friend. He wanted his old life, not this. Not the 'involved' Wilson. He was meaner, more serious. He was different. He didn't like this Wilson.

"Excuse me."

They both turned to look at Ann who stood beside them confused. Apron gone, purse in hand, she looked back and forth before pointing to Wilson. "Can I help you?"

Wilson gave a sheepish smile, a weak laugh leaving his lips. "Sorry, I don't know what my friend here has told you to have you hire him but he needs to go." Wilson tugged Houses wrist but his hand was snatched. House's eyes widen along with Wilson's as Ann gripped Wilson's wrist tightly.

"He's not going anywhere today." She claimed.

Wilson let House's wrist go, turning to her fully. "You know his not a 'real' baker right?"

"I know this."

"He's needed back at the hospital."

"Not today."

"House who is this?"

"Ann, a pain in my ass." House stated earning him a smack on the chest from her hand.

"Dr. House is in my care for the day."

"You got to be kidding me." Wilson stated bewildered. Sam only tugged his arm, staring House up and down as thou this was what she always expected from him. "Come on James, if House doesn't want our help then we should just leave."

Wilson looked back at her, his lips parted to object but he simply sighed, his shoulder sagging. Defeat. Rage exploded in House's gut. He wanted to yell at them, at both of them. He wanted to Yell at Wilson to get his balls back and drag House out of there! He wanted to tell Sam to shut her damn mouth and mind her own business. So many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to shout. His hands trembled as he fought to control his breathing. Wilson turned, shaking his head at House. He said something but House couldn't hear over the roaring in his head. The sight of Wilson's back turned towards him, seeing Wilson's warm gentle hand touch Sams lower back was embarrassing, leading her out of the store, like detouring past a accident. Was House that damage?

Fingers touched his fist, letting him look back. He kept quiet, silent. Watching the one person he could never have walk out with a new arm candy.

"I have to go." Pulling away from Ann touch, he removed the apron, snatching his cane from the counter. "House!" Ann got in front of him, her hands held up in a protest. "What's wrong?"

"This is stupid, I need to go home." Pulling his jacket on, he pushed past Ann. His leg was starting to hurt and he needed to get home, he needed to get away from everything.

"House you cant-"

"Look!" House snapped at Ann causing her to jumped back, other customers paused and looked at the scene, watching as House shouted with the pure hurt and anger he felt. "I don't even KNOW you! I didn't ask for your fucking help, I'm not some charity case so just leave me the hell alone!"

Slamming out the glass doors, House left, leaving behind a shocked crowed and an upset Annabelle.


	9. Chapter 8

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House rested his chin heavenly on his palm, staring at the resting lake before him. House had forgotten he didn't drive to the bakery so he was forced to walk home. Ten minutes into it, House found himself in a park and his body, drained by his emotions begged for a rest. So on a stone bench, he watched the scene. His fingers squeezing one another gently every now and then. What was he going to do now?

Bowing his head, rolling his fingers through his short hair, his eyes closed. He was going to have to face Wilson and Sam at come point. He could ignore them for a couple of days, buy him some time but what can he do? Really, what could he do? Ignore them? Bit his cheek and smile at them. He didn't want to deal with it, he wanted to hide, wanting to pretend it never happened but he knew Wilson wouldn't let him. No one would let him. They would remind him, if not then Sam would dance her happy little self in front of him, taking joy at every flinch he gave.

Now he was in a dilemma. He could either sit back and wait, watch Wilson from a distance and when they fail, he could mock him for not listening and once again repeat the scene, repeat their never ending dance or he could get up and step between them still. He could pull more tricks, pull more pranks, force them apart, force Wilson to see the truth, but then he would risk Wilson hating him like with Amber and leave him completely.

Each choice was bad to him, but in a small part of his brain. A voice whispered, a voice that made his heart turn cold. He could pretend he didn't know them. Why fight for something you know you can not have? Why try to help when the person you help will only repeat? House didn't want to hurt no more, he didn't want to be like this. Pathetic, emo, boring…

What was he going to do?

A shadow cast over him, blocking him from the sun's rays. He didn't want to look up to see who stood before him, he wanted to keep guessing, just assume. It was better to assume and hope then be faced with the truth.

A gentle breeze carried a sweet scent to his nose, tickling his taste buds that he only groaned out in irritation.

"Go… Away…"

"Can't do that."

Annabelle sighed down at him, her hands settled on her hips. He could hear her little pants, most likely trying to regain her breath. "For a guy with a limp, you're pretty fast."

"Years of practice."

"I can only guess who you're running from."

"Pimp daddys. I owe some money for some bitches."

He heard her chuckle before feeling the soft fabrics of her dress at his outer thigh when she sat beside him. Lowering his hands to his lap, he finally opened his eyes and glanced, staring over to her, watching her sit there next to him smiling, staring out at the scene.

"Why are you following me?"

She looked back at him raising a brow. "Don't make me repeat myself."

He rubbed his face muttering. "Riigghhttt. Can't be alone or some crap."

Leaning back on the stone bench, he looked up to the blue sky, watching the clouds slowly pass by.

"Isn't your boss going to be pissed your not working?"

"Nope." She answered, resting her purse in her lap. "I run the shop, so whatever, I do what I want."

"With that kind of attitude, I'm shocked you're still open."

"Its cause I have milkshakes.. And they bring all the boys to my yard."

"When you say yard, do you mean-"

"Ah-ah. Don't finish that." She snipped, her fingers brushing back one of her curly locks from her shoulders. Once again, they sat in silence, enjoying the warmth, the gentle cool breeze. House worked his jaw a little in his failed attempts to say something. He wanted to tell her to leave and yet, a part of him wanted her to stay. A part of him wanted to know why she chased him down after the scene he caused in her store, the other wanted to know if she would keep running after him.

Tilting his head back fully, resting it on the stones edge, House let his body fully relax, kicking his hurt leg out fully to stretch. This was kinda nice.

"When I was little, I think I was seven. I lived with my mother."

House peeked open one of his eyes to look over at her with a frown. "This interest me why?"

"You said you didn't know me. So I'm opening up." Ann answered before opening her purse to pull out her wallet. "She was… different. I never knew who my real dad was, my mom couldn't figure out which guy got her knocked up. A great way to start your childhood hm?" She smiled to him, her thumb brushing along a battered wallet she held. "My mom struggled a lot. Ever scene I could remember, she always drank. I suppose, she thought it could get rid of her pain she felt. Everyday, I would wake up for school and she would yell at me, telling me she had lost her job due to my neediness. That she couldn't find a good husband because no man wanted another mans child. I never took them to heart. My mom was in pain and I needed to be strong for her."

She pressed her lips sighing. House lifted his head back up, watching her, waiting. Normally he would make a snappy comment, a hurtful comment to make her shut up and go away but that part of him, that part that was in such a need to be with someone, told him to keep quiet. To not ruin this.

"I really wished for a mom I saw on my tv. A mom who made me lunch, who picked me up from school. Did my hair, helped me pick out my clothes. A real mom who fussed and played with me, I was young so I thought. Perhaps if I prayed. If I prayed and wished every night before I went to bed. I could get."

"One day, I woke up to the smell of blue berries." House noticed her eyes swell, those brown eyes, making them sparkle in the sunlight. "I walked out of my room and I found my mom in the kitchen. She turned and she looked so beautiful. She looked.. Just like a real mom. She smiled at me and told me she had baked fresh blue berries muffins for me. I thought, all my praying, all my wishing. The heavens finally gave me my wish."

Squeezing the wallet, she slipped it back into her purse. "The day was so magical. She made me breakfast, took me to a near by park and played with me. We had a picnic and she taught me how to fly a kite. I told myself, I would never be as happy as I was that day. This was what a real childhood should be, this was what I wished for. That night, she tucked me into my bed, sat beside me and began to read one book after another. I kept begging her to keep reading, to keep going. I never tried so hard to stay awake then that night. I didn't want it to end."

House's finger curled into his knee when he saw a tear drop fall, trailing down along her cheek.

"I woke up the next day alone. My mother was gone. To leave a child, seven years old, in a apartment alone with only their toys and clothing. You believe you did something wrong. I came to find out when I was fifteen, that my mom had planned to leave me behind. My aunt had gotten a letter, telling her that she had found a man who would marry her and she could start a whole new life. She didn't tell him she had a child already in fear she would lose him, so she left me behind. But to ease the guilt of doing that to me, she gave me one day of joy."

She looked up at House, tilting her head lightly, brushing her bangs before her eyes. "Just one day."

"She's a crappy mother." House muttered. Turning his gaze away. Ann chuckled, nodding her head in agreement before wiping her cheeks quickly. "But it still doesn't explain why you keep following me."

Ann licked her bottom lip before leaning back on the bench, "My mom wasn't the mother of the year, she didn't praise me or pat me on the head but she was always there. You never know how empty you are, how scared you become when you wake up one day by yourself. Wake up to an empty home with nothing but yourself, your possessions." Reaching out, Ann touched Houses clutching fist, her fingers brushing at his knuckles. "Its not a good feeling House."

"No one should suffer that feeling. Not even you."

House didn't know what to do. Her hand was laying on top of his own lightly, her fingers stroking his knuckles in a soothing rhythm. He wanted so much but he feared. Damn it, he was scared! Bowing his head, his fingers flexed and gripped his knee tightly.

"I wont tell you." He muttered.

"Alright." He looked at her from the side, watching her, waiting for her to get up and leave, or to pester him into forking over his feelings, just like everyone else did, like Wilson.

She just sat there, staring out, her hand resting tenderly upon his own.

"I mean it, I'm not telling you." He repeated only to gain a shoulder shrug from her. "I heard you the first time."

"I mean, why would I tell a complete stranger about my personal life?"

"Strangers are the best people to talk too Dr. House."

"Oh? Why is that?"

Ann pressed her lips in thought before answering. "With Strangers, they don't know you. They know nothing about you, your life, your job, your friends. They are just another person. You can spill your guts to a stranger and they could pat you on your back, help you out or just walk away, but either way, you get the ease of finally being able to just let it all out. Shout it from the roof top kind of thing."

"I highly doubt that." House sighed. "If I told you, you would show up at my work and demand I give you every treatment known to man to find out what the hell is wrong with you FOR FREE just because I told you some shit about my life."

"What hospital do you work at?"

"Not telling you."

"Then how will I black mail you?"

"If your dead set on free medical treatment, you'll find me." House glared at her making her laugh out before shaking her head. "Why would I use black mail? I'm a hot young women with an ass you can bounce a dime off of. I can get any doctor I want to cure me."

"But I'm the best."

Ann didn't reply, but simple hummed to herself. House looked down at his free hand, thoughts running across his mind. He wanted to lace his fingers with her own but he didn't want to give in to that neediness. He was tearing himself apart, he didn't know which way to go, what he should do. So much was building up inside of him, to stay quiet, to sit back and let things play out, the wait was killing him, driving him insane.

With a deep breath, House took that step and hoped it wouldn't break.

"… I went crazy a few months ago."

Ann stopped humming, turning her body towards him, to show he had her full attention. He couldn't look into her eyes, he didn't want to see what her face said. Pity? Fear? He didn't want to know.

Closing his eyes, he started to let his feelings spill out, feeling the weight, the pressure inside of his chest slowly slip away.

"I'm always in pain and the medication I was taking had a huge side effect. I was taking to much that I started to hallucinate. I woke up one day and I heard someone in my kitchen. When I walked out, I saw Wilson," He pointed a little down the road in which they came from. "You met him earlier."

"Pretty boy with the blondie?"

House smiled sadly before nodding. "I saw him in my kitchen, he was cooking me my favorite breakfast. It was just like every other day when he staied the night but this one, this was different. He acted…strange. He looked warmer. He turned and saw me and his face." House lifted his free hand to touch his own mouth, tracing to his scruffy cheek helplessly. "He never smiled like that before. All teeth, cheeks flushed. He looked at me like I just made his day better for being there. He greeted me and when I came closer, he kissed me." His fingers curled, covering his mouth tightly before letting his hand drop to his lap.

"He kissed me and told me to set the table. He rambled on and I noticed I was wearing a ring on my hand, so was he. I came to find out, we were married and it was our anniversary. I have to tell you… That was the best damn day of my life." He laughed out half heartily, his palm rubbing into his forehead when he slump forward. But her hand never strayed, but kept still over his own, squeezing it every now and then, as if reminding him, she was there.

"We spent the day in our.. My apartment. Eating, watching TV. I played piano for him while he watched me from the couch, he read my journals while I rested my head in his lap, feeling his hands stroke my head every now and again. Then the night came and we were in my bed. We didn't even do anything, we just laid side by side. I couldn't believe it. I was married, to my best friend of all people, and I loved it."

House opened his eyes fully then, looking over to her finally. "He kissed me and held onto me until I was asleep… I woke up the next morning and he was gone. Ugh, you have no idea how embarrassing it is to call your best friend when he's sleep at his own apartment to find out where he went… to just realize it was all made up; just a wacky side effect of taking to much of my pills. I wanted that life, that love that I over dose again. I wanted to see it again, that life. I ended up seeing other people… Then it got worse. The side effects wouldn't go away, the illusions were becoming to real, they were over powering my mind that I couldn't tell what was fake and what was real. Who was talking to me or if I was just standing there."

"It was a bitter end and I went to Mayfield. Wilson drove me and I remember, when I walked into that building. I remember looking back and staring at him. I wanted him to smile at me like in my dream. I wanted him to run at me and hug me like in that dream but he just stood there, watching me until the door closed." Taking a shaky breath, House whispered. "When I got out, I tried to fight that feeling. The need, the want but it just got stronger, so strong that I went and tried to kill my best friends relationship before it even started just to keep him. The result got me nothing but a disappointed stare and my key taken away. So yeah… that's my deal."

They sat in silence. House waited, what would she say? Would she just sit there and annoy him with silence when he wanted to hear her talk? Would she laugh at him and forever branding him a moron for taking this step? Would she hug him? God, He hoped she didn't do that.

She moved, scooting closer to him, their hips touching one another. He looked back to her, seeing her face give back nothing but a tender smile. Her fingers flexed and laced into his own before her lips finally parted, whispering out.

"Feel any better now?"

House looked away, his lips pressed. The weight in his chest was gone, the need to scream at the top of his lungs was still there but it was a dull throb instead of that burn. Turning his head away, House forced his smile down before muttering out, his fingers returning the gentle squeeze she gave.

"Hell no."


	10. Chapter 9

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House closed his eyes, letting his drain body began to relax. He knew he should sleep, he needed to go to work tomorrow. He needed to get a new case, he _needed_ to get his mind working, focused on something else.

Ann did the trick but only for a little while. After the scene at the park, Ann had sat with him for a little while longer before she pulled herself to stand, suggesting they return to her bakery. House didn't feel up to it so he made an excuse to return back home. Ann gave in and much to his surprise, walked with him back home. She could have offered to walk to her car and pick him up and drive him back home, would have saved the hour walk or perhaps hauled down a cab and paid for his ride. No, she walked that hour at his side, chatting about anything that came into her mind. House learned she was a smart little cookie, thou she was very modest. She talked big but had nothing to back it up. One comment about her breasts and her face went bright red but call her an moron and she'll just shrug and call him an idiot.

They reached their apartment complex and when he opened the door, she grabbed his wrist, stopping him from entering. Looking back, he expected her to say something along the lines of, 'can't be alone' or 'you shouldn't'. But she reached into her purse and pulled out a planner. Letting his wrist go, she wrote a quick note before handing it over whispering.

"Just in case… Take care Dr. House."

With that, she turned and left, going back to the working world, leaving him alone like he wanted.

Staring at the folded sheet of paper on his night stand, he pressed his lips. Ann's cell number. Like he would call her in the middle of the night or something; sobbing his little heart out, whining about his fears to her, like a freaking women. Turning away, he grabbed his spare pillow and hugged it to himself. Just one night of sleep, that's all he needed. His thigh throbbed and inched its claws along to his spine, warning him, telling them to take another bite of that sweet candy of his drug. To dull everything once again.

But as he thought, the more he began to draw away. If he went back on Vicodin, he could return to his normal self. That brilliant pill popping bastard. He could be once again, normal in his eyes. The more he thought, the more he began to reach for that orange bottle; a doubt began to form in his mind. What would happen if his choice became a repeat? What if, one day he fell asleep and when he woke, he would find Amber sitting across from him, her knowing smirk covering her lips. Perhaps it would be Kutner this time, a frown on his sad face, ignoring the dripping blood at his temple.

Or perhaps; it would be Wilson, curled up next to him, asleep, unaware. Maybe House could get that illusion again, maybe he could get Wilson in his mind instead in his reality.

To risk that chance or waking up to a new horror. What if none of them came but Hanna? What if he awakes and finds her across from him, dirt covered, teary eyes. Blood dripping to the floor from her missing leg that he removed. What if she sat there and followed him, each time sobbing, asking him _why _constantly bugging him to save her, to help her. She put her life in his hands, her trust and he let it slip through his fingers. What if that greeted him? No mental hospital would be able to cure him, House truly believed that if he was greeted with that dead end, he would off himself before she could utter that plea.

_Help me.._

Burying his face into his pillow, he took a deep breath and sighed. He needed to rest and he hoped that when his body shut down, he would see nothing but black emptiness.

/

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Someone was calling for him. House shock his head lightly in the darkness, his eyes straining to see. Someone was calling his name. He searched but nothing greeted him, nothing told him where he was or where the voice was echoing from. It was just darkness, pit black darkness. The voice grew louder and a light began to glow. A tunnel. The voice was coming from it, was whispering mumbles that he could not understand.

That voice was so scared, he could not turn away. Something in him tugged, telling him to go, telling him to run. So with a huff, he sprinted, following those whispers. He would help, he was a doctor. That's what they were suppose to do. The closer he got to the light, the brighter it seemed to shine, blinding him for a second. The voice didn't let up but grew, wrapping its plea around his body in a shivering mass of fear. Something was wrong.

Closing his eyes tightly, House covered his ears, his body falling to his knees. To loud, it hurt. His voice ripped out in a yell as he fell to his back, his hands squeezing, nails digging into his hair as he struggled to deafen himself to it.

Something snagged him and pressure began to build on his legs. Eyes snapped wide, he let out a scream that shot the light around him, surrounding him. It glowed and pulsed until fading away, leaving behind rocks, cement.

"N-No." House uttered, his eyes wide with fear. The light drained away, letting him see the dust in the air, the sand. Metal rods poking out of cracked rocks, the sounds of digging, voices muffled from the distance.

He was back in the building. He went to move but pressure made him hiss out. With a glance down, another scream ripped from him in agony.

He was pinned under a slab of cement that was once the garage roof. He yelled out, panic setting in, his hands gripping the cement block, trying to push it, trying to lift it off his leg. He was where Hanna was, he was trapped!

"Help me!" He shouted, coughing on his own tears. He could hear the voices, but they were to far away, the machines were to loud. No one could hear him. Throwing his head back into the ground, he yelled out, his hands gripping his thigh tightly.

"Someone! Please! Help me!"

/

/

House bolted straight up in his bed, his fingers clutching his sheet tightly. His eyes wide with fear, his body drenched in sweat. Closing his eyes, House took deep breaths, touching his face with his shaking hands. "Damn." He muttered. Another night and those dreams wouldn't go away.

A hiss passed through his teeth when his thigh kicked into over drive, sinking its teeth into House's nerves that he threw himself onto his left side grabbing his thigh tightly. He needed his pills, he needed help! In a blind state of need, House reached out his hands and knocked away object that lingered on his night stand until he found his phone. He didn't even look at the numbers as his thumbed dialed that all to familiar rhythm.

/

/

The phone was ringing, stirring Wilson from his dreams. Opening his eyes slowly, he glanced to his clock with a groan. Sam muttered beside him, pulling the covers over her shoulders, burying herself a little deeper in her warm cocoon of sleep. Wilson lifted his head, his arm giving her a squeeze while he was still draped around her. She let out a deep sigh before he rolled over, reaching for his nightstand, removing the noisy device that interrupted.

"Hello?" He muttered, rubbing his tired eyes.

"Hey Wilson, what you doing?"

Wilson let out a groan at the sound of House's chipper voice. "Sleeping, its three in the morning."

"Really? Wow, time flies when you masturbate."

"I didn't need to know that."

"Oh well, I'm bored, so how about coming over and spending some man time over here. You got to be tired of the couple life by now."

Wilson frowned at sound of House's voice. It sounded' like he was pain. "House, I'm going to bed."

"Don't be a bitch Wilson, show you have some balls, get over here."

Wilson's shoulder slumped as he sat up fully. Damn, he forgot how annoying this was. Ever since House moved out, he never made a call or attempted to get Wilson over in the middle of the night. Wilson thought House finally found something or someone to bug or perhaps, deep down, House was still angry at him for kicking him out. Wilson would admit, he kind of liked it. He got to spend more time with Sam, got to finally have a life he always wanted. That he had once with Amber… House was giving him space and Wilson didn't want to go back to their old ways.

"Wilson… I need you."

Wilson closed his eyes a little. The tone in House's voice was different, it was a plea. House was not the one to beg unless it was for good reason. This worried Wilson, but then again, it could be a trick. Never put it past House to use his 'mock' pain in order to guilt Wilson into giving him everything he ever wanted.

Wilson tilted his head back onto to the head board. Damn, he couldn't bring himself to say no. He opened his mouth to tell House he would be over but movement paused him. Sam pushed herself up onto her elbows, her clouded eyes shadowed in the darkness as she looked upon him.

"James?" She muttered, her blond hair brushing along her cheeks. "What's going on?"

"Its House." Wilson answered, his free hand brushing back her hair. "He's… having problems sleeping. I might just swing by and make sure everything alright."

"Oh, I forgot House turned back into a five year old." Sam yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Wilson sighed, "It'll be just for a little bit. I'll be back in an hour."

"No you won't." Sam argued, her face showing annoyance. "It never takes an hour when your with House."

"Well what do you suppose I do?"

Sam reached out before he knew it and snatched the phone from his grip. "House?" She placed the phone to her ear. Wilson tried to get it back but she only pushed his hands away. "House, stop being selfish and go to bed. Wilson has to work in a few hours." With that, she pulled the phone away and clicked it off.

Wilson sat there wide eyes as she tossed the phone onto the floor, where it lite back to life as it rang once again, House's name printed on the I.D.

"Sam-"

"Wilson, you're going to have to cut the cord. Now, come to bed."

Wilson pressed his lips in a fight but Sam smiled warmly, her arms wrapping around his neck. "Or… if your not tired. We could do something else."

That idea made his eye brows shot up. Closing his eyes a little, a smile touched Wilson's face before letting his lips touch her own, lowering her back onto their bed.

House would be fine.

/

/

House stared at his phone as the dial tone greeted his ears. It wasn't surprising when Wilson refuse to come over, that was fine, but what wasn't was the fact he let Sam do it. He curled his fingers into the phone tightly, never had Wilson let his counter part fight his battles for him. House gritted his teeth, his hand shaking. Why? Why was he left alone? Why didn't Wilson care for him like before? Slamming his phone down, he gripped his knees again, hissing out the pain. He was sick of waiting, he was sick of waiting by and watching his friend be happy, be tricked into loving an image that wasn't true. He hated Sam. He hated her!

Sitting on the side of his bed, he lowered his head into his hands, raking his nails along threw his hair. His body was drained, his eyes sore. He was so tired but he feared to go to sleep. He willed himself to stay awake but he didn't want to be alone. He was sick of being alone. His toes curled, crumpling a piece of paper. Looking down, House picked up the sheet, staring at the numbers on it.

Ann…

'_Just in case…'_

His lips pressed at the thought. Should he? Would she be willing to get up and come over? She lived just next door so it wouldn't be that big of a deal. Then again, He didn't know her, maybe she wasn't a morning person, maybe she would pick up and yell at him for calling her.

Call him pitiful for calling so early.

Staring at the number, he grabbed his phone and dialed quickly before he could talk himself out of it. She offered to help him, she didn't say the words but making him work with her and then walking him home, that was a big neon sign of her saying, 'I'm a noisy busy buddy! Bother me!'.

He listen to the ringing, a whisper in his mind repeating. _'be there… be there.'_

'_Hi! You've reached Annabelle Davis. I'm not here right now, so leave a message or I will not call you back!' _

Damn. He hung his head a little, feeling the disappointment in his chest. Really House? She was a stranger and at this time of night she should be tucked away in her cozy little bed with her boyfriend, sleeping.

"Its House…"

He hung up, unable to say anything else. What was he going to do now? He feared to go back to sleep, his thigh protested the idea of going out somewhere. All that was left was his normal past time.

It took great efforts but he managed to make it to his living room without that big of a problem with his leg. Eating down a few of his pills Mayfield gave him, he was able to move it without feeling like pins and needles were stabbing him.

Another night of TV watching was not what he planned… But it was better then anything else. Finding a channel to watch, he began to relax when a sudden knocking on his door made him jump. Looking over his shoulder, he stared at his door for a moment before a flutter of hope hit him. Standing up, he limped his way over, his mind telling him not to get too excited. Grabbing the handle, he took a breath and opened it, looking out to see who was knocking

A adorable half awake Annabelle stood before him. Her eyes were barely opened. Her arms limp at her side, her body slightly hunched forward. Baggy black sleep pants held little cartoon cats yelling, 'sup dog' while a baggy shirt laid on top. Her hair was down, spilling around her in thick river of curls. He never saw hair that thick and long before. It went all the way to her knees, no wonder every time she put her hair in a bun, a few strains kept coming out. There was to much to keep up.

Her cheeks were red as her eyes clouded from sleep. She let out a yawn, rubbing her face a little before muttering, her voice gentle and soft yet dripping with exhaustion.

"You called?"

Damn, House had the sudden urge to hug her. She looked so small, so much younger then before.

"What are you doing here?"

"You called." She yawned again. Moving forward, she pushed her way in, leaving House standing stun for a moment before closing the door. She came over? She willingly came over?

"You know what time it is?" he asked, watching her move to the couch in her sluggish steps, "Honestly?…No. I forgot to look." Slumping down, she rose her arms over her head, popping her back before fully relaxing, kicking her legs out.

"So House. Why'd ya call me?"


	11. Chapter 10

/

/

/

"Why are you here?"

House stared at Ann, growing uncomfortable and yet, a spark of ease settling in his mind. He didn't approach the couch she sat on, he was still confused to why she had come over.

He wanted to punch the wall so badly, he wanted to tell her to get out. She wasn't the one he wanted to see, he wanted Wilson to be on the other side. Why was fate being so cruel to him to deny him the one pleasure in his life?

"I heard your message." She mumbled out, her fingers itching her head. "You sounded sad."

"I'm not sad." He snapped moving himself to stand behind her. "I'm just tired, messes with my voice."

"Having problems sleeping?" Rubbing her cheek, she looked around before pointing. "Mind if I make some coffee? I feel like I'm going to double over in a second."

"Go back home then and pass out there." He huffed, he didn't mean to sound mean but finding her instead of his best friend was a wretch to his heart. Wilson was really letting him go. Why didn't Wilson care for him like before? What has Sam done that House couldn't?

"Hey, I drag my butt out of bed just to come over here and you're kicking me out after five minutes?"

"Yup, now leave." House turned and stalked away, returning back to his bedroom. He was pissed. He was lonely. He had to many emotions inside to pick one. He just wanted this day to end!

Tossing his cane to the side, he fell face first into his bed, his hands snatching his pillow, stuffing it back under his head. "This sucks." He muttered to himself, staring at the head board.

Little shuffles of foot steps could be heard in the living room, much to House's despair and delight. He didn't know what he wanted. Another sound made his lips turn down, his head lifting from his pillow. Clicking glass. She was in his kitchen. Turning over to look back towards his door, he watched the lights flicker with her shadow in the living room, telling him she was indeed still in his apartment.

The foot steps were getting closer and he buried his face back into his pillow. He could feel it, her gaze, staring at him. What was she doing? Why did she stay after he told her to go? Why was she in his kitchen?

She approached him quietly before House heard another 'click' beside him. Peeking out over his arm, he noticed a glass of water resting on his night stand.

"You don't have any nightquil."

"No reason to use it." He muttered but she only sighed, the bed dipped, letting him feel her settle down, her hip barely touching his own. "I should of brought some of mine."

He didn't answer, didn't take the glass she placed for him. He just laid there, quietly, watching the ice melt.

"Your not going to tell me why you're upset hm?" He didn't reply, didn't even look in her direction. She simply sipped her own drink, glancing around his room.

"I remember one time, I woke up sick for school. I had a spelling test that I didn't want to miss but my nose was stuffy and I had this really gross cough. I awoke my Aunt and told her I was sick and she told me there was medicine I could have to make me feel better. She wasn't fully awake so when she was grabbing a bottle, she made a mistake and gave me nightquil. After I had drank it, she realized what she had done and just said, 'Opps'."

"I'm not sick." House muttered, none-a-less he turned, looking over his shoulder at her. "She gave you nightquil and she just said 'opps'?"

She shrugged laughing lightly, resting her glass cup on her knee. "She wasn't fully awake. She didn't give me a lot so it wasn't that big of a deal but she did, however, pin a note to my bag telling my teacher if I passed out during class, it was cause I had that."

"Bet your teacher was thrilled."

"Hardly, she didn't like the idea of me sleeping during class but what can you do? I had a note."

House went back to silence again, listening to her breath, to her drink, to her rustling movements when she crossed one knee over the other.

"I called Wilson…"

She looked down to him, saying nothing, doing nothing. House stared at the glass of water bitterly, his lips a snarl. "He never did this before. He always came over, always.."

"But this time?"

"Sam stopped him. He was my friend first! I come first!"

His fist slammed into the mattress, his lips twisted baring his clutched teeth, he refuse to cry, he was angry as hell, he felt that burning poker of hate trying to crawl its way out from him, but he only choked it back, refusing.

His body jerked at the sudden touch, fingers touching his back.

Stroking.

Petting.

Calming….

"What are you doing?" He muttered, his body stiff, his fingers curling into the sheets to control his need to roll away. She kept touching him, stroking his back. Up and down, slowly up, gently down. Never pressing, just soft pressure points. "Nothing, go on. Why did you ask me to leave?"

"Stop touching me."

"I will when you answer me."

"I'm bigger then you, I might have a gimp leg but my arms make up for it."

"Why did you tell me to leave."

"Cause I don't want you!"

His body jerked away, rolling onto his side. Her arms shot out, smacking her offending hand, sending a sharp spark of heat threw his palm. He laid there panting, his hands trembling as he watched her, seeing her stare, her hand hovering near her face, stroking the sore area lightly.

"Who do you want House?"

He lowered his hand, his head turning away.

"I see." She mused lightly. Pushing herself to stand, she placed her water glass beside his own. "Has any one ever told you, want is very different from need. You want Wilson."

"I need Wilson." He snapped.

"You want someone next to you, to follow you. You want Wilson because, what? He has been here longest? Knows you better?"

"You know nothing about him, about us, so just shut up."

"You're going to hurt yourself if you keep thinking like this, you just ne-"

"I don't NEED anything! My life was fine before I woke up and saw you! Wilson will be back! I know him better then anyone, he can't stay with her, he's going to screw up, he's going to cheat and once he does, he'll come running back to me!" He looked at her laughing, his fingers gripping the sheets tightly. He just had to wait. Wait it out. Wilson would be back, he always came back.

"Wilson needs ME."

"You want him to need you."

"He does."

She sighed deeply, her arms crossing over her stomach. "How long will you wait until he appears at the door like old times?"

House didn't answer, just sat there, his eyes narrowed to her. She was trying to mind fuck with him, trying to do…to do.. He didn't know! But he didn't like it! "I don't have to answer to you." He growled instead but she didn't let up. She was poking him, ripping away the layers of his feeble state, asking him again and again, 'how long House? How long will you wait?" She was exposing his raw wound. How stupid he was to trust her, thinking she was there to help him, she wanted to change him, just like everyone else!

"How long?"

"He was mine first!" He finally snapped, the river of rage, the dam of fear that held it back broke, letting it pour out, letting it roar its ugly head into House's mind.

He let it all out.

"I risked my life for him!" He grabbed his drink from the nightstand, throwing it at her, "I would do anything for him and he knows that! I wouldn't even think twice about it! I didn't even try to talk him out of it when he asked me to risk my own life to save his last girlfriend, I did everything for him, I got him out of jail when that bitch of an ex wife left him broken! I watched out for him for years, I made sure he didn't kill himself when everyone of his patients died under his care. I was there! ME! I WAS THERE! I TOOK CARE OF HIM! I MADE HIM LAUGH! I MADE HIM HAPPY!"

"Then Sam."

"IT WAS SUPPOSE TO BE ME!" He cried out, his hands ripping at his hair. "HE'S SUPPOSE TO LOVE ME!"

His voice echoed around him, the ice chilling silence making him tremble. Opening his eyes slowly, he saw the tears he cried fall to the sheets below him. His shoulders trembled as a cracked sob left his throat. Wilson was suppose to be with him, House was suppose to be the one Wilson curled up to at night. House was suppose to be the one Wilson kisses, touched, fussed over.

"He was suppose to love_ me_." He repeated, his hands quick to cover his face.

There, that bitch got what she wanted. House wiped his face, sniffling back his sobs. He never cried like this in front of anybody, not even Wilson on his bad days. Ann just ripped away his protection and left him bare to the world, left him sobbing and helpless.

Gentle hands touched his shoulders, wetness seeping through. Lifting his head, he looked up to her, seeing her sad smile. Water droplets hung onto her bangs, her shirt soaked from the water he threw at her. Sliding onto the bed, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

She was hugging him.

He sat there stun, shocked. Why? He just yelled at her, threw water on her and she hugged him? She made him confess his inner rage out into the air and yet he let her hug him? With slow movements, his arms reached out, wrapping themselves lightly around her waist.

"Let it all out." She cooed to him lightly, her breath tickling his ear. He bowed his head a little into her shoulder, breathing in her scent, coconut vanilla.

"Its not healthy to keep all that rage inside… I'm glad you let it out. I was afraid it would consume you."

"Don't be an idiot." He muttered, burying his face fully into her throat, his arms squeezing tighter, bringing her closer to him.

"I've already been consumed."


	12. Chapter 11

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**/**

Gentle fingers stroked through his hair and House couldn't even bring himself to tell them to stop. For once, he simply gave in and took greedily the warmth, the tenderness that was willing given. Green neon lights glowed its eyes upon him, shimmering their numbers. It was so late or perhaps now, very early.

House bowed his head down a little more, pressing into the cotton fabrics that laid over top the warm flesh of swollen breasts that heaved up and then down. Like gentle waved rocking his very own boat on the sea of tranquility. There was nothing sexual. No, this was more peaceful. Calm.

On his bed, Ann and him were intertwine. He still couldn't believe he went along with this. He didn't know how long they had held each other, saying nothing, doing nothing but, inside, House really needed this. He needed someone there, with him, right now.

Ann had let him go and began to move away and before he could even think about reacting, his arms tighten their hold and pulled her closer. Fear coated his mind, fear she would leave him in the darkness, alone under his weight of pain and loneliness.

He feared she too; would ignore his cries for help.

Her hands cupped his face and brought him up to met her own gaze. Guilt washed over him that his lips pressed. She looked at him with her wet hair, drop lets of water lingering on her chin and cheeks from their earlier outburst. Removing a hand, he reached and wiped a drop from her cheek with his thumb, watching her face swirl into a mixture of shock before pleasure. Those light brown eyes were warm, intoxicating, like a glass of fine whiskey. He could get drunk off his mind with endless questions, with endless confusion with her glances. Why did she help him? Why was she there? He rose his head, his nose touching her own. Those eyes, they drew him in, he wanted to drown in them, he wanted to surround himself in her scent, in her light just so he could find his own way out from the shadows.

House suddenly wanted to know, did she taste like his favorite liquor?

When he moved to kiss her, she only turned her head away, letting his lips touch her cheek. Her skin was soft, smooth. He smiled to himself, a woman's skin. Closing his eyes, his lips brushed along her cheek bone, taking great joy of the felt. It had been so long, he almost forgotten what it was like. All those months, trying to get Wilson, feeling his best friends face while he slept, the roughness, the beginning of a bread. Wilson's hands were surprisingly soft. Wilson did like to touch all his cancer kids and folks and hitting on the nurses would often work more if his hands were smooth.

Ann's hands touched his arms, her fingers brushing up along under his sleeve, tracing his forearms, feeling his muscles flex in his grip on her. Ann's hands… they weren't as soft as Wilson's. No, they held a rough texture. House didn't mind it, no, he liked it. They were gentle, tracing airlessly along his flesh but he could feel the rough patches, telling him of the hard work she has done, how she would not coddled or protected but took the bull by the horns herself.

She moved again, he felt her body, her chest remove itself from his own and panic set in. He gripped her tighter, his throat closing up. Her fingers touched his shoulders, giving them a squeeze, was she trying to reassure him?

"Don't." He whispered harshly. He just ripped his very fear on the floor, he poured out his rage in front of her eyes and if she left him, if she turned around and walked out, he would curl up tighter in his ball of self loathing and bury himself deeper into his pit of despair. He didn't want to watch another person turn their back on him.

Not like Wilson..

"My foot's asleep."

He frowned a little, feeling her body wiggle, her hips tilting to let her feet slip out from under her rump. "Oh…" Was all he said. She moved away and this time, he let her move a small distance but his hands never left her, no, they touched her, down her arms to her hands, needing the contact. He felt so open, to revealed that he didn't know what to do with himself. He never been like this, not for a long time.

Sitting comfortably on the mattress before him, Ann sighed happily. "Better." She muttered before taking his hands in her own, rubbing them. "I don't know about you Dr. House but I am wiped out."

He didn't answer but watched her look around, her lips pressing in thought. "Would… you let me sleep over?" He felt his chest swell at her words. He wanted to smile, but his face couldn't more, his fingers only gripped her own. He was emotionally exhausted, his whole body felt like it was on its last strain of power, threatening to give way and shut him down. She nodded her head before grinning, "It'll be like a middle school just no sleeping bags or parents ease dropping."

Everything else went by like a dream. She coaxed him to lay down, pulling the covers over him. He waited for her to get up and leave, to go sleep on the couch like Wilson had always done, like Cuddy. Was he that terrible of a person, that no one could sit in a chair beside his bed and watch over him? Did they have to be in the next room?

Ann removed herself from the mattress and the cold sinking feeling began to come back. Why did he hope? He was foolish to hope, to think it would end differently. Ann stood up and searched his room, for what he didn't know so he just watched her, sliding his arm under his pillow, tucking his cheek into the case. She must of found what she was looking for since she smiled and walked away.

"Can I borrow this?"

Lifting himself up to his elbows, he looked down to the end of his bed, watching her kneeling, holding up one of his discarded rock shirts. He rose a brow at her before she pulled at her own, a sheepish smile on her face.

"Mine's….kinda ruined."

A slow nod from him got her to nod back before turning, her hands quick to grab her own shirt. House's lips parted a little at the sight of skin, but she suddenly stopped half way up. He figured she forgot he was still watching since she just sat there, her fingers gripping her own shirt tightly.

"The bathroom is to your left." He muttered before falling back fully, covering his face with his arm. He listened, the shuffling feet and the click of his bathroom door. House took a few deep breaths, willing his mind to stop thinking, to shut down. The silence ticked away before a gentle hum touched his ears. Tilting his head a little, he listened, removing his arm from his face when he realized that Ann was singing in his bathroom. She was singing a song he hasn't heard before, thou, he would admit.

It was very calming.

'_Falling out of a perfect dream, coming out of the blue…_'

Closing his eyes to her humming, he didn't hear the bathroom door open , drawn to much into the words, into the lyrics. '_Is it true? Is it over… did I throw it away?' _It was like she was reading his mind, seeing all that had happen to him. '_Was it you? Did you tell me, that you never leave me this way?'_.

The humming stopped and when his eyes opened, he spotted her standing next to his bed, pulling the covers back, clicking the lamp off on his nightstand. "What are you doing" He asked gruffly. She looked at him shocked for a moment before slipping in, pulling the covers quickly over her legs. "Sleep. What else?"

"In 'my' bed?"

"Well of course, where else?"

"The couch?"

"You would make me sleep on a hard couch instead of a soft bed like this?"

"Depends. Will you let me touch your naughty places?"

"Hey hey, I said we were to pretend we were in middle school, not high school."

"So you going to paint my toes while I gossip about how the 'most cutest boy' looked at me today?'

"Hardly, he looked at me."

House moved, giving her room to lay completely on her back, a sigh of gratitude leaving her lips. They laid there, Ann on her back, House on his side, watching her, every rise and fall of her chest, every movement she made to rest at ease. The minutes ticked by and even thou his body cried for sleep, his mind still questioned.

"Why were you singing?"

She laid there for a moment, her head turned to look back at him. She gave a little shrug before whispering, her fingers pulling the covers up to her chin. "..I sing when I'm nervous."

House smiled a little, that was cute. "You're really bad."

"Shut up." She chuckled out, in the outline of the green glow, he saw her nod in agreement.

Sometime, after an hour or so, Ann had fallen asleep, her face tucked neatly into one of his pillows. House watched her, his own body feeling the sudden heaviness of sleep begin to creep in. House didn't want to close his eyes, for fear that when he opened them, he would awake to find this all a dream, another illusion. He wanted to wake up and see Ann laying there beside him, tucked away in her own dream world, curled up beside him. He wanted to awake to a new day, a day with no pain, with no worries.

He reached out and touched her hand lightly that rested under her chin, brushing her knuckles. He still wondered who this women really was, why she tried so hard to make sure he was okay. He only knew her for a day and she acted as thou she knew him for years.

'Women' He sighed to himself.

But with a deep breath, House finally let his eyes drift shut, let his body slip into the cozy cocoon of unconsciousness, his fingers giving her hand a gentle squeeze, reassuring himself she was really there, that this wasn't just another fucked up dream, this wasn't his mind playing tricks.

Only then did House let the curtains fall over his mind and eyes, his body relaxing and sink into the mattress, into his pillow.

With one last deep breath, House finally fall asleep.

**/**

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**/**

Wilson could not believe what he was seeing. He couldn't bring himself to tare his eyes away from the site.

It was five thirty in the morning when Wilson laid awake in his bed worried. Sam slept peacefully, her arms tucking the covers around her spent nude body. Wilson on the other hand, could not get House's voice out of his head, the more he thought, the more he swore he heard a plea, a beg.

'_I need you' _

Heat flared in his face but he would not admit he was blushing but it was nice to know House needed him. Ever since they were friends, for years House used him, bragged to him, ruined every formal event, tried to burn every relationship after another Wilson made and just plain made his life crazy. It was almost worth it to know, every now and then, House needed him.

Maybe it was wrong to think this way. To be pleased over the mere fact that out of everyone, House needed 'him'. Even Cuddy came in a close second.

Being as careful as he could, Wilson slipped out from his bed and dressed. A quick check up wouldn't hurt right? He'll just pop up over House's place, make sure he was okay and be out before Sam stirred from her sleep. Sliding his wallet into his pocket, he smiled at the idea of picking up some coffee. If he knew House and he did, House would be on his second bottle of bourbon and would need something to sober him up for work.

The drive to his friends apartment was nice, no one was on the road this early in the morning. This gave a chance for Wilson to think, to let his mind wonder.

Perhaps he was being a bit unfair to House. After the whole, dating Sam, kicking him out and then the whole Hanna tragic event, maybe he was being cruel in ignoring his best friend. Alright, it was cruel. Normally he would be banging down his friends door, demanding he talk about it.

But for some reason, Wilson just felt lazy. He didn't want to keep being 'that guy' anymore. He didn't want to keep worrying about House, he didn't want to be the mother hen. So rolling up his sleeves, Wilson took a step and started to back off. Sure he felt bad but it would work out. House just needed his space, just needed time to think, to get over everything.

Besides they could plan night outs any time and still hang out at work like they always did. Just not all the time, now there's Sam and a possibility of a bright and hopefully good future.

Parking, Wilson left his car and approached his friends apartment, digging for his spare key. He wondered what House was doing, was he on the couch drunk out of his mind? Sitting at his piano staring idly at the piano keys?

Was he naked in his bathtub trying to zone out to the world?

Wilson put his money down on the first one, highly doubted his friend had the energy nor the ability to walk a straight line.

When Wilson entered the living room, he was shocked to find himself alone. The T.V. wasn't on, the stereo wasn't blasting music over inch of this place. No, everything was still, was quiet.

To quiet.

Wilson checked around the apartment, figuring perhaps House was slumped, passed out in his own sickness on the floor somewhere. The kitchen was spotless, the bathroom was bare. Rubbing the back of his neck worriedly, he approached the bedroom.

That's when he opened the door and was shocked still.

There his best friend was, laying fast asleep on his bed. That didn't shock him, no, the image that made his stomach drop cold, his lips part in a sudden intake of breath.

House was holding someone.

Wilson had to take a few steps closer, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness to spy, a small figure trapped in House's arms.

She laid on her side, tucked neatly under his best friends chin. One small hand balled in a loose fist just under her slightly parted lips while the other held House's shirt lightly. House on the other hand, looked as thou he had rolled right on top of the poor thing but looking close enough, Wilson noticed House was shielding her. One arm was tucked under her pillow, fingers picking out the top, intertwine with her brown locks. His body was bent forward, causing his chest to pressed against her own, his hips against her own. From the look of the covers, the young women's legs were twisted with his own, pinning her in place. House's free arm laid on top of her, resting along her upper body to the mattress. It looked like House was hugging her, keeping her close to him.

The strange made a sound and her body moved, Wilson held his breath as his eyes stared, watching House let out a grumble and roll over onto his back, his arm pulling her with him. She didn't fight but simply accepted and sighed into his chest, curling into his side.

It was so sweet.

Wilson wanted to throw up.

Retreating, Wilson left the bedroom, closing the door to the sight. His hands were shaking a little when he let the handle go. What was wrong with him? He should be relieved. This meant he could go back home, crawl back into his warm bed to his beautiful girlfriend and get the next two hours of sleep before going to work. This was good. Heck, this was great!

Leaning his back against the wall opposite of the door, Wilson curled his fingers into a fists at his side, his teeth clenched.

And yet he wasn't happy. He was **pissed**.

He didn't understand why; he felt..

**Betrayed.**


	13. Chapter 12

**/**

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**/**

Something was rattling in his head. House closed his eyes a little more tightly, burying his head back into the soft folds of sea weed that tickled his nose. Ah, scuba driving, a old past time that filled his weekends when he was younger. He still remembered that year, he went out into the ocean every other day, scouting for new life, new areas to explore. He even dragged his mom to go see one day while his father was away.

He sighed deeply, he could feel it, the cool water surrounding him, layering him in gentle ease, molding him perfectly. If he opened his eyes, he bet he could see the school of fishes swimming right by. He could see jelly fishes dancing by over top, coral reefs lining up the oceans floor, homing smaller creatures. Here, everything was slow, at ease. The sea weed moved and he only chuckled out, his fingers wrapping in them, holding its soft texture to his face. He use to hate this stuff, always got caught on him, got his gear tangled but now, after so many years, he didn't mind it.

The rattling was back and he only shock his head. Was someone trying to signal him? Opening his eyes, his vision blurred and struggled. The water was clear but slightly mucky, everything looked like a paint brush was swirling the colors together. Looking up, his eyes caught sight of something bright, light reflecting across the surface of the water. Someone was calling him. House breathed out, expecting to see bubbles drift but nothing came out, just the ripples of light and brown fingers swaying just below his eyes. The rattling got louder and the ocean started to move. He could feel it, pressure on his chest, pressure on his arms. A sound was muffling into his ear, growing louder and louder in the water. Closing his eyes, House reached up to cover his ears. Make it stop, make it go away.

The rattling returned and House's snapped his arm out to stop it, his fingers connecting into something solid that his knuckles flared up in pain.

"Gah!" House jerked awake, his right hand snatching it's self back to his chest. Suddenly, reality snuck back and he awoke to another day. Turning his head over, he glared at his night stand that his fingers had jammed into, his mind still a bit hazy. On top the source of the rattling lingered, his cell phone tapping a little dance, Foremens number flashing on the small screen. Glancing to the clock, he cursed out at the time. Damn, he was late.

10:00 AM.

Shaking his hand in the air to rid the stinging pain, he let out a yawn. That was a weird dream. He hadn't thought of the ocean for some time now. The more he thought, the more his brain sorted. Why were the sea weeds brown? He made the move to sit up and get his phone but something heavy pinned him down. With a frown, he glanced to his chest, his free hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes. What he saw made his eyes widen a moment in shock before his lips flinched in a suppress smile.

Annabelle was still there.

She was still asleep, her right hand tucked neatly under her cheek. She was laying on top of his chest, nuzzled comfortable between his legs. Sure the pressure on his bladder was starting to grow to almost an embarrassing alert, he couldn't find himself to stir her.

Not yet.

His eye brow shot up in amusement when he noticed bits of her long hair was covering his collar bone and face. Spitting some of the strains from his mouth, he tilted his head back onto the pillow. So that's why he thought sea weed, those curls were soft and clung to anything just like the stuff. As carefully as he could, he placed his hand onto her back, stroking her lightly with his thumb. She made a sound and nuzzled closer, her hips wiggling which made House stiffen. He bit his inner cheek to keep back the groan, feeling her hips pressing down on his groin. God, he hadn't been laid for weeks and this slow torture was going to kill him.

Reaching up, he grabbed her left shoulder to shake her awake when something caught his eyes. The collar of his shirt that she wore was falling off, letting him see bare tan skin. His fingers squeezed and he felt an outline of something more. There was something on her back. He traced the feeling, it started two inches from her shoulders and ended on the mid back of her left side. That was strange.

Lifting his head, his fingers curled into the over lapping collar and started to pull it down. Something was under there and he wanted to find out.

His phone rattled to life again and thing time, managed to dance its way off the nightstand, landing with a good loud 'crack' on the floor. Ann's eyes snapped wide and jerked herself up onto her hands. House stared as she supported herself, her body swaying side to side in her half awake state. "Wha?" House lowered his hand back to the mattress before sliding both his arms behind his head.

"You know, I normally don't do morning nookie but since I'm in a good mood, why don't we try it. Reverse Cowboy if you don't mind."

He watched her blink for a moment, staring down at him in confusion. Her thick hair was tangled and tossed, slipping over her shoulders. She looked like a sex kitten, ready to purr and slide her way up his pleasure and make him mew in bliss. She must of felt what she was doing to him cause her eye brows shot up. He glanced away when her lips made a smile even cursed when he felt her hips rise up and press back down against him.

"Dr. House." She purred, her voice melting with lazy pride. "I'm sorry, I don't know that position."

House glared at her when she removed herself from his now tense body, settling herself on her knees to stretch her arms in a yawn. "Fine! Regular cowboy, I'm not going to judge."

She only laughed, itching her head, causing the tousle of curls to brush around her body, like eager fingers wanting to shield her from his gaze. His eyes trailed down and his breath hitched when he noticed she wasn't wearing her bottoms. Long slender legs, her tan skin making him want to touch, to feel the heat he knew was there. The shirt rose in her stretched, giving him one inch after another of bare skin until he saw her hips, there he saw black lace, hugging her hips tenderly. It was like they were begging him to pull them down, to let her tender areas breath. Why they have been cooped up all night, they must be wanting to stretch out! He be doing them a favor.

Ann coughed into her hand as she removed herself fully from his body, the lack of heat making House pout. He moved his legs and a throbbing pain shot up along his thigh making him hiss, his hand quick to rub his scarred skin.

A rattling sound made him glance to the side to stare at an white pill bottle. Ann shook it again, making it rattle again before popping it open. "Thought you might need these." She offered.

"How di-"

"Found them on the floor."

She poured two into her hand before offering. House rubbed his thigh a second longer, trying to calm it down. He wanted Vicodin, not that crap. Glancing to her face, she smiled sweetly, sleepily. Her bangs formed around her face almost looked like a nymph, a magic creature that came out from his desperate need to keep him in the light. Without a word, he took the pills from her hand, gulping them down, watching her walk out of his room.

It took a few for his leg to finally ease back into a annoying ache. Like a pulled muscle that wouldn't relax just in time too since his phone sparked awake once again making him sigh and reach, flipping it open to his ear.

"What?"

"House, I've called you five times already." It was Foreman.

"Wow! I'm so proud you can count that high."

"Are you coming in?"

"Do we have a case?"

"Well, no. Cuddy is passing them along to other doctors for now."

"Then I don't see why I should."

"House, its about Hadley."

"Who?"

He heard Foreman sigh on the other line before muttering, "Thirteen."

"Oh!" House laughed, " did she accept my offer? I got the perfect kiddy pool for the jello and everything"

"I think she quit."

House frowned at that, his mind kicking into motion. Quit? Sure Hadley was going to die but that wouldn't be for while now. Systems were delayed and it wasn't affecting her work. No, there had to be something else. Hadley was hiding something.

"House?"

"I'll be in. Warn the villagers."

Clicking his phone shut, he pressed his lips a little, pressing his phone to his chin. So Hadley was leaving, he would have to look into this.

**/**

He smelt coffee.

House made his way down the hallway towards his kitchen, listening to the soft humming. Why did he feel like he was suddenly married? Walking in, he spotted Ann stirring a steaming mug at his dinner table. Her dazed eyes rose to met his own before giving him a warm smile that made something warm spread along his chest. A nod of her head showed him a mug of coffee placed on the other side just for him, how nice, she was turning into his maid, or nany. Either one he was fine with, perhaps he could get her to wear those sexy maid outfits and have her tease him with a feather duster. That would be a nice change in his routine!

Hanging his cane on the back of the chair, he settled himself down. "Normally all the women that stay the night normally leave before I wake up."

"Well, I'm not like all women."

"Amen to that." He muttered before picking up his mug, taking a sip. He flinched at the taste, glaring down at it. It was to sweet, it was like it was basically pure sugar. "Trying to rot my teeth?"

"Damn, I thought I put to much."

"It tastes like you put the whole bag into this."

"Hey, I put half the bag thank you."

Settling the mug back down, he leaned back, stretching his legs out. He needed to get to work but something inside of him didn't want to. It'd be another day of mindless tasks and charts and hopefully, a case to keep him focus and not drift. The more he thought, the more he began to grow angry at himself. He knew why he didn't want to go to work, he knew why he dreaded the idea of walking to his office, to eat at the cafeteria.

He might run into Wilson.

What would he say? What could he do? He tried everything to get his friend to understand, to see that House loved him, that he was the perfect person for Wilson to coddle over. It was like Wilson was behind thick glass walls, unable to hear House's words. What would Wilson ask him when they met? He had a feeling Wilson would demand to know why he was at the bakery the other day, why an obstinate of a women refused to let House leave with him?

A deep sigh left his lips before looking back over to her. She was humming to herself, sipping her coffee silently.

"Ann.."

"Annabelle." She corrected.

He huffed, rubbing his face. "Annabelle." He stated slowly, earning a wide grin from her. "Yes?"

"About…last night."

"Outside these doors, it ever happened." She interrupted. He gave a slow nod before looking away, letting his eyes trail along his kitchen floor. "Yeah, but when we're inside?"

"Does this make us cuddle buddies?" She whispered. House's eye brows shot up before he glared. "I don't 'cuddle'.

"Really? Then what were we doing this morning?"

"I was trying to get sex."

"Oh, fine. I don't want to be cuddle buddies with you anyway."

"Please, if you had your way, you would tackle me on the floor and try to molest me."

"That's SO besides the point." She answered in a huff, her cheeks turning red. House grinned to himself, finding himself pleased over the fact that she was shy. It made him want to tease her some more.

"So…. You off today?"

" From the bakery, I have to work at my studio thou."

"Please let it be an adult studio." He begged, looking to her with pleading eyes making her laugh, covering her mouth coughing, "Hardly, it's a dance studio."

Ann cleared her throat before itching at it, this caught House's attention.

"Sore throat?"

She gave a nod before a sheepish smile, "Guess I'm coming down with a little cold."

Ann lifted her cup to her lips before her friend shot himself to his feet. "When do you work?" He pulled the cup from her hand as she answered unsteadily, "Um, five?"

"Great, plenty of time. Come on."

Ann let out a squeal when he grabbed her arm and yanked, pulling her up and dragging her out. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to get you a check up."

**/**

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	14. Chapter 13

/

/

Wilson rubbed his face tiredly, taking in a slow deep breath. Sam questioned him this morning, apparently he has lost his touch on sneaking out from his other marriages for when he came home, she was in the kitchen waiting for him. It felt he was in high school and returned home from a light night party to find his mom waiting. He couldn't get his coat off behind she started questioning.

'Where have you been?', 'Where did you go?', the answers were not to her liking. He saw her brows narrow and her lips press. He busied himself with coffee while she sulked at the counter, dressed in her cotton robe.

"I don't know why you have to keep going to House. He's an adult, not a child, even thou he acts like it."

"He's been through a lot Sam."

"So have you, so has everyone else. He suddenly can't sleep so that makes it O.K. to ruin yours? You need to stop enabling him!"

"Drop it Sam." He snapped, trying to keep his temper down. He didn't like other people attack his reasons for doing what he does for House. That was his best friend, Wilson would always care for him, take care **of **him, no matter what people say.

"You're a hypocrite." He whispered to himself, folding his arms back on his desk. Just a few hours earlier, he was telling himself he **didn't** need to take care of him. He needed time off, he couldn't always be there, he had Sam now.

And yet, returning home, something inside of him started to creep, starting to grow and turn its ugly head to his eyes. He **wanted **to be the one House came too. He wanted to be his only friend, the only person he could trust and the sight of House wrapping himself in another persons arms…

He shock his head sharply. What the hell was his thinking? He didn't love House that way, no, he loved him like a brother. He was just being stupid, over protected. Yeah, that's it. Wilson was taking his turn in House's shoes. Wilson was jealous over the friendship House seemed to be sharing with this female.

It was only until he was outside that he realized that the stranger was the young women from the bakery. Who was she and why was she with House? Wilson knew all of House's friends, he paid a pretty penny with Lucas to find out **those** details.

Looking to his clock, Wilson's shoulders slumped. It was almost noon, he needed to do his rounds and then he could go eat. Pushing himself up, slipping his lab coat off its stand, he slipped it on with a thought. Was House in today? A pit stop at his friends office wouldn't hurt, just to see. Perhaps they could go eat together, just like every other day. Leaving his office, Wilson made his move, spotting just down the hall two of House's team mates.

"Hey Chase."

The pretty boy, Chase, turned his head to look at Wilson, giving him a small smile in greeting. Wilson would never understand why that man willing return to House's side after three years of stating how he 'never' wanted to join back up and risking his marriage, the end results, divorce. "Is House in?"

Chase turned back to Taub, who stood idly, his facial expression almost telling everyone he wanted to be anywhere else but right there. Handing him a blue file, he said something that Taub only nodded and walked away, folder in hand.

Turning back to Wilson, Chase let out a deep sigh before shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "Yeah, showed up twenty minutes ago."

"Well that's good news for Cuddy. Is he in his office?"

"Actually no, he's doing in the clinic."

Wilson's thick brows shot up at the statement. House always tried to avoid that area, stating he had better things to do then listen to people be stupid. "Against his will?"

"Don't know." Chase shrugged, itching the back of his head. "We got a call from him earlier telling us he was going to send up some blood work for us to run."

"I thought all his cases we're being passed off."

"They are, but House seems to have found himself one."

"What is he looking for?"

"He asked for me to go and pick up the blood samples at the lab, wanted me to run a full Tox Screen and check for STD's."

"What are the systems?"

"A cough and itchy throat."

"..That's it?"

Chase nodded watching as Wilson think it over. It wasn't strange when House took on a weird case, House was great when it came to seeing problems out of a little bits and pieces. The puzzle started to connect in Wilson's head that his jaw dropped and a groan left his mouth. Covering his face, he muttered, "Is the patient a women?"

"Uh yeah?"

"Oh my god Cuddy is going to kill him." Chase didn't get time to ask when Wilson suddenly walked away. "Which room is he in?"

"Exam room three!"

Chase watched Wilson open the stair well doors and disappear behind it. What was that about?

**/**

**/**

"Alright, I'm going to ask you questions to rule out some things."

"Kay."

House moved his stool closer to the exam table, removing his pen from his jacket pocket to write. Ann sat in front of him pouting, rubbing her right arm, trying to sooth the soreness from the blood drawn House had done earlier. She still didn't understand why he needed to take her blood, it was just a little cold. Earlier, before House had dragged them to the hospital, Ann had managed to escape to change, stating, 'I don't want to show everyone my butt!'

So an hour later, House walked in dressed in his normal attire, red graphic t-shirt, dark blue denim jeans with a black suit jacket on top. Removing his sunglasses, he called out his arrival by stating, "Clocking in!" while close behind was a panting Annabelle. House held her by her arm, basically dragging her to the free clinic while she struggled to keep up. When She first came out of her apartment to met him, she was dressed in soft colors. A long brown gypsy skirt that trailed to her ankles letting brown wedges peek through. A cream color lace tank with a dark brown long sleeve shrug covering her from her shoulders to wrist. Her long curly hair pulled back into a thick braid, letting only two locks, one by each ear trail down along her face to her shoulders. She looked like a hippie.

But damn it if House didn't think she looked good.

After ten minutes of taking her temperature, blood pressure and listening to her lungs. House declared that he must draw blood samples. 'Rule out possible causes' he explained when Ann leaned away, quick to hide her arms.

"But its just a cold!"

"Did you go to doctor school?"

"I think I know a cold House."

"Perhaps your right, it might be a cold, or maybe, now its just the PHD talking, it might be a infected virus that is slowly breeding inside of you and if go untreated, cause remember, I'm a doctor, you could start coughing up your lungs and then die but HEY! You want to risk it? Go ahead, the doors right there."

House did a victory fist pump in the air in his head when Ann looked away, seeing the doubt on her face, her lips moved for a come back but her body just slumped in defeat and her arms were presented out, sleeves rolled up for his needles. After that, it was a cake walk. Alright, so House lied, she did have just a sore throat but he could use this! If things turned out the way he thought, and he hoped they did. Long sweaty nights, pleasure and heat, hearing her moan his name and finally letting himself cut loose.

Oh yeah, he wanted that but before he put his 'dipstick in the oil' he needed to make sure the oil was clean. He didn't want to have another panic again.

"Alright, when was your last cycle?"

"About two weeks ago."

"Are you or plan to go on birth control?"

"I'm already on it. Controls my mood swings."

House smirked to himself. Alright, no condoms. Bonus!

"Any known heart disease or cancers in your family?"

"My uncle has high blood pressure is that counts."

He nodded, making a note to get himself his month check up. He knew he was clean but it wouldn't hurt to double check. At that moment, the door busted open causing Ann to jump and House to sigh. "Jeez, always have to make an entrance huh Cuddy?"

House turned and was greeted with a different face. His heart stopped for a moment before his fingers let his clip board fall to his lap. Wilson stood in the door way, his face tight with his control to keep a friendly smile all awhile his eyebrows showed he was upset. A ruffled Wilson, now that was adorable.

"House.. Can I talk to you for a second?"

"I'm in the middle of something here."

"It's a consult. Really important."

"Seriously? I willing come down to do my clinic hours and you try to get me to stop?"

Wilson took a deep breath, biting back his fighting words before pointing back over his shoulder. "When your done, find me."

"Yes dear." House cooed, watching the door slam back shut. Letting out a sigh, House popped his lips, turning back to face Ann. His heart was racing, why was he suddenly nervous? He blamed it on the fact Wilson ran in demanding to talk, was something wrong? Did Sam and him get into a fight? That would be nice.

"I think he's jealous."

He snapped back to Ann whom rubbed her arm still, her eyes focused on the shut door. "Don't think. Now back to the questions."

"That was Wilson."

"No, that was my pimp. Didn't I tell you I was a bottom bitch?"

"You know, up close. He's kind of cute."

"Hey, hands off. If I can't have him, neither can you."

"I don't want him. He seems like the pretty boy, I like the down and dirty men."

"Did I tell you I ride a motorcycle?"

"Why, House do go on."

He chuckled to himself before tossing the clip board onto the counter. "… Did he really look jealous?"

She nodded slowly, pushing herself onto her feet. "I can tell, he only looked at me once and when he did. I could of sworn I saw hate."

"He probably thinks you're a prostitute."

"Or… he remembers me from yesterday and see's me as a threat. You should do something about this."

"What? Run after him and steal him away into the closest closet and have wild sex while I declare my undying love for him?"

"Why not? He seems like that type for that."

House only rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes glancing to the door. Was Wilson really jealous? Did he have a chance after all? "I thought you said this was bad for me?" He whispered. Soft clicks of her shoes approached him, he could see her skirts below his eyes.

"Waiting for him is. I think you need to do something."

He glanced up to her. He was confused now, he wanted Ann and now he wanted Wilson. He liked the idea of seeing Wilson jealous, to know he was going through the same thing House had suffered for years. What was even more sad was he was to scared to play on it, afraid if he did anything leading up towards his confession that Wilson would freak out and run away from him. He might lose that friendship. Could he really risk that or should he just sit back and keep it buried. A guilty pleasure only House would know.

Ann cupped his face in her hands, snapping him out from his thought. He looked up to her, seeing her eyes narrowed, her face set in a stern expression.

"House, I don't know you but I have half a brain to know you're no wuss." He opened his mouth to speak but her fingers squeezed his cheeks sharply, her voice low in a whisper. "You love him, but do you want him?" He gripped his thighs a little before giving a small nod.

"Then go and get him. Don't let that bitch win."

His face cracked as he let out a laugh, his expression causing her own smile to peek through. "Who are you?" He sighed, taking her hands off his face.

"Just a friend." She replied, giving his hands a squeeze. "So, I think while he's still trying to figure out his feelings, you should take advantage of it."

"And how should I do it?"

"Well, dinners are a nice ice breaker."

**/**

**/**


	15. Chapter 14

"The results should be done in a little while, why don't you order something to eat."

Ann brushed her bangs from her eyes, letting House see the sight of her little pink tongue sweeping across her upper lip, "That's a great idea."

House wrote something in her file before tossing it on the counter, "The phone in on the counter, dial three to get out."

"I can't leave?"

He gave her a 'duh' expression before standing up, "If you leave and I get your results and I find out your liver is going to explode, how can I save you?"

"Call me?"

"Don't leave this room."

She gave a pout, her arms crossing at the order. He stood firm before he cracked and reached out, tapping his knuckles lightly against her chin. The small sign of affection made her press her lips before giving up in a simply nod. He moved to the door before she spoke out, "You have a phone book around here? I'm feeling kind of Mexican."

"You have a sudden urge to sale oranges? Cause I'll take a bag."

She laughed at him before giving a shrug. "There's this restaurant I love called 'El Tucan', it's a couple of blocks away but I keep forgetting if they can deliver."

House tilted his head in thought, "You already know what you want?"

She gave a nod as He began to pull out his pen and tearing a sheet from inside of the blue folder of hers. Handing it over, he interested her to write down what she wanted. "You going to get it for me?" She questioned as she began to write, leaving House to lean against the counter smirking.

"Something like that."

**/**

**/**

"Yo! Pretty boy!"

Chase came to a slow stop with a deep sigh, his ears picking up the 'step, tap, step, tap' that was his boss's foot steps. Lowering the chart, he turned to greet House. "I'm on my way to the lab to run the last of the blood tests if that's what your going to ask."

"Well that's nice to know. Here, I have an important job for you."

Chase blinked at the folded piece of paper House stuck under his nose. Unfolding it, House's voice mused with serious tone, "Its very important you get this right."

"You want me too… pick up a delivery?"

"Not just any delivery, it's Mexican!"

"I didn't go through four years of med-"

"Yeah yeah, I heard it before, your beauty with brains and no one takes you seriously. Go pick that up, any mistakes and you'll be on burn unit duty."

Chase's jaw dropped as House turned his back to him and walked back away, leaving him gripping the sheet tightly. "House that isn't fair!"

"Cry me a river, build me a bridge and I'll push you over it Wombat."

Chase's shoulders slumped before he hung his head. Why again, did he willing give up his marriage for this job? Looking back to the sheet of paper, he glanced at the restaurants name before cursing. That place was down town! Traffic will be packed! Covering his face with his free hand, he took another deep breath. "I love my job." He muttered to himself before he set off, needing to grab his car keys.

"I love my job… I _LOVE_ my job."

**/**

**/**

House glanced around for a moment before finally spotting his target. Wilson was sitting in an empty booth, all by his lonesome. House looked closer and the site made him smile. Wilson's hair was ruffled, like he was running his hands through it. His face was set in a bewilder expression while his eyes held a hint of fear. He looked worried, he looked upset.

Maybe he WAS jealous.

House tried to hide the grin that grew on his face but it didn't help. Wilson was finally seeing, his best friend was finally opening his heart and his mind at the idea that House was made just for him. Soon Wilson would be knocking down his door, proclaiming his undying love and kicking Sam out to sweep House back inside.

Alright that was pretty damn cheesy but House would hold onto that. This was a chance, it was a sign. It had to be.

Taking a deep breath, he wiped the smile from his face before setting off towards his friend, joining him on the other side.

"You called?"

Wilson looked up, relief on his face. That little expression made House's chest melt with warmth, he couldn't even bring himself to frown when Wilson suddenly asked.

"House, are you sleeping with her?"

"Do I ask about your sexual encounters?"

"Yes."

"Oh, then yes."

Wilson covered his face in annoyance before muttering out. "Cuddy is going to have your ass AGAIN if she finds out your running another check up on your 'lady of the night'."

"Lady of the night? What are we, Shakespeare? If you think she's a whore, just call her one."

"I'm not calling her anything!"

"You just did, you flat out just called her a whore, jeez Wilson. I thought you were the nice one of the bunch."

Wilson's face went red to House's delight. He loved messing with him, getting him all riled up.

"House, stop trying to push this on me. You know Cuddy forbidden you to run any more free tests on your….girls.. Just so you can have sex without protection."

"Looks like someone has been peeking into my personal life."

"I don't have to 'peek' House. You tell me."

"Same thing. Eh, one more won't hurt. She came in with a cough, I'm just running a full check up like 'any' good doctor would. I think you should be proud."

"Not when the outcome is you sleeping with her."

"Awww, I get it. You think you're getting replaced. It's o.k. Jimmy, bro's before hoes."

"That's not my point House!" Wilson snapped, slamming his fist on the table. The noise made on lookers pause in their eating and conversation to glance over to them.

Oh this was to much. Wilson was definitely jealous. House could dance a jig right there and now over this piece of information. Wilson was now suffering what House had to go through for years. A little bitter taste of karma.

"Well if your just going to rant at me again about my choices in women, then I'm going to get back to work." Placing his cane on the ground, House began to removed himself from his seat when Wilson suddenly moved.

House's arm was snatched by Wilson's quick hand, fingers squeezing his wrist lightly.

"House wait.."

He glanced back across the table, staring at his friends worried face. What was going through his head, House wondered. Slowly, House sat himself back down, laying his hand back on the table, letting Wilson's remove his grip.

"….What are you doing Friday night?"

House's eye brows shot up at the question. Was Wilson asking him out? Normally House was the one doing this. When Wilson was in a relationship, it was harder to get him to agree to anything. To have him ask, out of the blue to hang out. That only meant one thing.

Sam and Wilson were on the rocks.

House smiled to himself before giving a shrug, his face showed off his boredom. "Same thing I do every night. Eat, drink, L-word. Maybe I'll spice things up a little and watch it in my room."

Wilson tapped his fingers a little on the table as he struggled to find the words to say. He didn't know why, but he suddenly needed House next to him. The thought of him leaving to go back to that women, to that girl who was so pretty and so damn annoying. She stood between him and House last time, her eyes all narrowed and her lips pressed. A little hellion thinking she could control his House. HIS. No one could control his best friend, he wouldn't let it happen!

That notation made his heart beat fast and his face flush. Looking away from House's questioning gaze, he coughed out. "Uhmm! I was wondering… if you wanted to hit that bar Chase and Foremen took you to with me."

"You want to go karaoke with me?"

Wilson gave a shy shrug, a weak smile on his boyish face. "Why not? Chase said it was fun and… I haven't heard you sing in a while."

"Oh god… You're going soap opera on me."

"Shut up House. I was just asking. If you don't want to go fine."

House tapped his cane lightly on the floor, watching Wilson look everywhere but him. He looked so nervous. Like a teenager trying to get the courage to ask the girl of his dreams out to prom.

Wait, that made House the chick. Oh fuck that.

"Fine."

Wilson's head snapped back to him, his face breaking out in a grin. "Really?" House nodded, standing himself back up. "I'll meet you outside the bar at eight. Don't be late or the first round of shots are on you."

"I always buy the shots House."

"Well then, never mind."

They stared at each other for a second longer. House gave a sharp nod in agreement before turning back around and leaving. Wilson, on the other hand, just slumped back, feeling, oddly enough, at ease.

Why did this mean so much to him? Why was Wilson jealous of this women? He felt threaten, that's it. That women was trying to be House's new best friend. That had to be it. He was going middle school on this matter but he didn't care. He worked to hard and to long to let some little women come skipping through and take his spot.

House was HIS best friend.

Wilson would made sure it kept that way.

**/**

**/**

House caught his ball once it bounced back. He waited silently, his mind running a mile a minute. Now he was in a pickle. He tossed the ball back to the wall of his office, trying to figure it out.

Wilson was jealous. This meant there was a chance. Wilson could find out they were suppose to be together and finally admit those buried feelings and they would be able to carry on.

But then… He caught his ball, giving it a tight squeeze. What about Annabelle? He only knew her for a few days but he felt like he knew her longer or at least, she knew him. She was like a new breath of fresh air. He loved Wilson but Anna, he liked her. When he needed someone to reach for him in his pit, she came out of no where and jumped down, snatched his hand as tightly as she could and spoke to him.

Bowing his head, he rested his head on his giant ball, trying to fight his inner emotions. He felt guilty. What if Ann had feelings for him? That was a long stretch. What if Wilson didn't work out? What if everything just fell apart? Where would he be then? Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, remembering when his life was at peace. Back before his leg, back before his betrayal. He wanted that back so bad.

Opening his eyes, he tossed the ball again, bouncing off the wall and landing with a dull 'thud' on the ground. Ann had pushed House to chase after Wilson, so she was trying to tell him to go for it. Maybe she was hiding her own feelings in hope that he would be happy. Maybe, she was doing what House had been doing for years with Wilson. Tilting his head back, he gave a nod. Its settled, after his date with Wilson, if there is a shimmer of a chance they could be a couple, House would forget about Ann and concentrate on that goal.

But; if Wilson gave any feeling of doubt or told House they could never be. Then House could fall back on Ann, for some reason. He knew if he fell, she could catch him without him calling out to her.

At that conclusion, his office door opened revealing Foreman. Lifting his head, House rose a brow as his employee walked over, dropping a blue file in his lap.

"All her tests are clean." He simply stated.

Opening it up, House glanced through with a smile but Foremen reached out, flipping the page. "But I saw something and went to take a better look."

Sitting up straighter, he began to read the notes, his fingers skimming over the results and numbers. One by one the pieces began to connect and his brows shot up in surprise.

"She's on anti depressants." Foremen finished. His Ann? The always smiling, always giggling baker was depressed? He read over the tests again, trying to find a flaw but his mind yelled at him for being an idiot. He couldn't even tell the girl next door was on pills. He must be losing it, he could tell Wilson was on the stuff but he missed it with her. Closing the folder, he tossed it on his office table. "Was there anything else besides that in the work?"

"No, other then that. She's pretty healthy."

"Good. Lets not speak of this again."

Foremen frowned at that as House limped past him, heading out. He needed to ask Ann about this, to see why she was on these pills. For the past few days, she helped him and kept a smile on her face and gave no show of ever being depressed. How could he missed this? Its always people like that! Just like Kutner!

He made it to the elevator when it opened, revealing an upset Chase, holding a bag of take out in his arms. "What are you doing?" House asked, "That's going to exam room three."

"Its empty." Chase snapped, handing the bag over. "The nurses told me she ran out. Left a note for you." Chase shook the bag for House to take but his boss just stood there, his face setting hard in thought. "Well?' He snapped, "Where's the note?" Chase flinched with irritation. Setting the bag on the ground, he dug into his coat pocket, removing a folded sheet of paper, handing it over.

House snatched it from his hand, reading the content quickly.

_House;_

_My studio called, there has seems to be a problem with the sound systems so I have to go in now. Sorry! I'll see you tonight, I get off at nine, come over if you feel up to it and tell me if I'm going to die. _

_Sign;_

_Annabelle._

"Moron." He muttered, crushing the sheet of paper into a ball. Chase stood there silently before picking the bag back up. "Um, what should I do with this now?"

"Don't care. Throw it away."

"It took me an hour an a half to get this!"

"Then eat it! Stop bitching at me!" House stormed off leaving Chase behind to stomp his foot, his cheeks red. "I hate jalapeños!"


	16. Chapter 15

**/**

**/**

'_Watch as the older male stalks it's mate. See how he stares, watching, waiting, any sign of movement from the female will set off the cycle._'

"Boring." House muttered, clicking his remote. His left leg could not stop bouncing, his chest feeling tight with every tick his clock gave. Glancing back up, he watched the long minute hand move another notch making him growl. He was antsy, time was going by to slow!

When he was given the news of Ann leaving the grounds, he tracked down her chart in hope to grab her studio address. Be his luck, it wasn't there. He did remember her telling him where it was but he wasn't paying attention. Pinching the bridge of his noise, House cursed his hormones.

He needed to talk to her. It wasn't that big of a deal, sure. Being on anti depressants; Wilson was on them for a period of time but for some reason, knowing she was on them, knowing she spent the past few days taking care of him, making sure he didn't slip away, it bothered him. He didn't like that it bothered him! He wanted to shrug it off and just take it, be selfish. He earned it right? The more he thought about it, the more his gut began to drop. She has done nothing but help him and asked for nothing in return, no advice. No check ups. She didn't black mail him, expect him to pay her back. She just did without asking and he had the sudden urge to crawl into her own cave of darkness, her own shadows of dismay and help pull her out.

This didn't mean he cared for her, not like Wilson. No, she hide something from him and he needed to know why. Why was she on those pills? What was wrong with her? What was making her to so sad?

Glancing back up at the clock, he groaned and fell to his side, pulling his pillow over his head. It had only been five minutes since the last time he checked!

Once his shift was done, House left on the dot at five, making a pit stop for a meal since he really didn't eat, and then home. There, House began his waiting game. Ann said she would be home at nine that night, so he had three hours to kill now. He spent the first hour eating and working on his piano playing. The second he spent laying on his couch staring idly at the ceiling. Now it was fifteen till and he had become restless. There was nothing on T.V. and his medical journals all but lost their sizzle after a few pages. His ears struggled to listen, trying to hear those soft foot prints of his pill popping next door neighbor. Picking up his remote, he turned the T.V. off, tossing it away from him sighing. How sad was this? The great Dr. House, smart-ass bastard of a man waiting for a meek little baker to return from her side job.

Biting his thumb nail, he began to think, trying to remember. What was that studio? She said it was a dance studio. He couldn't help letting his mind wonder. What kind of dance was she doing? House felt his stomach tighten at the idea of her being a belly dancer, wearing those two piece outfits. She would look great in violet, those sheer fabrics trailing down along her tan legs, bells chiming with every twist of her hips. He could just picture her dancing for him, slow, intoxicating. He let out a deep groan before he heard the sound he'd been waiting for.

A door opened and shut outside in the hall making him jerk up. Ann was home. Quickly he hopped off the couch, swinging his arm out for his cane as he began to make his way to his door. Finally! What the hell took her so long!

Pressing his shoulder against his door, he pressed his ear close and listened. He heard humming, muffled but he knew it was her. Glancing threw the peep hole, he watched Ann make her way pass his door, her hair hanging loose in a braid. He rose a brow at her outfit, it looked like she was wearing a mans sweater, covering her from shoulder to her mid thigh. She looked like a five year old wearing her fathers shirt! She disappeared around the corner making House curse silently to himself. He heard another click of locks before a swing of a door opening and closing.

She was home. Pressing his lips, House snatched his keys and opened his door quietly, sneaking himself out before side stepping closer to her door. Her note had invited him over, her test results showed she was taking pills, he had every right to knock on her door.

But House found himself paused, withdrawing. He was prying, he was trying to peel her apart and find all those missing pieces, those unanswered questions. He was going to poke, prod, twist and cut anything he could to get an answer from her lips even if it meant her pain. That's how he was. That's how he was suppose to be and yet, he found himself drawing back. He didn't want to do that to her. He wanted her to tell him, on her own free will why she was taking those pills, tell him why she was hurting just like how he told her.

His fingers squeezed his cane tightly before lifting it up. No, she made him open up, she stalked after him, watched over him and asked him to open up. He was just returning the favor. That's it, he used her now he will let her use him. Yeah, that's it.

With a nod of his head, House bought the cane down on the door, knocking on it.

There was silence before shuffles of feet behind the door.

'Comin!' Her voice muffled. The door opened and he was greeted with an surprised smile.

"House! What brings you here?"

"Ran out of sugar."

She blinked for a moment before pressing her lips in thought. Opening the door fully, she walked away, leaving him alone. He stood there puzzled for a moment before he walked in, using his cane to shut the door behind him. With a whistle, he looked around shocked, it seemed little Annabelle was one hell of a ballet freak.

The living room was clear of any clutter and filth. Soft cream velvet covered couch and sofa chair laying in the middle before a glass top sliver frame coffee table. It was like she lived in a crystal ball. Everything was so soft and bright, butter milk yellow paint covered each wall while crystal frames showed photos of childhood memories and, from what he guessed, awards, along with little figures of dancers graced along the shelves or tables. Books littered white painted book cases, each of cooking and of ballet, some looking worn and broken, as thou she had read them over and over again.

"Your in luck!" Her voice popped out making him jump. "I still have a bag."

He turned and took a good look at her and his brow shot up. Why didn't he notice this? She was dressed in her ballet uniform. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, not one strain, one lock, one bang covered her face. All those layers of hair was pulled up and tightly wrapped in a bun that House swore, if he removed one bobby pin, her hair would shoot out in all directions. How she get her hair like that so fast? A black swim suit kind of spandex hugged her torso, a dark violet sheer skirt was tied around her hips, brushing at her upper thighs, which he noticed, were bare. The same shade of violet was covered her shoulders and arms in a shrug. His eyes trailed down to what covered her feet and he couldn't help the small smile. Black ballet Pointe shoes. Worn and showing the months of tread and usage. She held a small bag of sugar, holding it out to him.

This women, right in front of him, was depressed.

He took the bag from her slowly. He had to find out what was hurting her, what made her so sad that she had to get checked out for it. What was making her cry at night? What was wiping that smile from her face. He rose his hand, his body reacting before he even noticed. His knuckles brushed around her cheeks, feeling her soft skin. Her eyes widen a little at the touch and House only cursed to himself silently. Yanking his hand back, he shoved it into his jean pocket, his eyes wondering away to the floor.

"I.. got your results."

"Oh great!" She clapped her hands before giving him a wave, instructing him to follow her. "Sorry about leaving, the speakers fried itself and my assistant couldn't find the number to the guy to fix it." House followed her down the hall to a room in which caused his lips to part in awe. One of the spare bedrooms she had was ripped out and a dance floor was placed in instead. The floor was all wooden polish, smooth and clean. The walls were all covered in mirrors, reflecting, hiding nothing. Sliver bars were bolted into the mirrors, lining up along one side. Walking in, Ann approached a small CD player tucked in the far corner of the room.

"I hope you don't mind, I haven't been practicing much as I should so I need to do a few warm ups."

He shock his head giving her his approval before she clicked the play button. Soon music began to play and House frowned. It wasn't anything he heard before. It was sweet and slow, piano began first before a voice began to sing out but it wasn't in English.

"It's the opening song to a show called 'Princess TuTu." Ann answered lining her body up before her mirror, grabbing the metal bar as she began her stretched.

"Princess TuTu?" He muttered, "What kind of show is it?"

"Anime." He shock his head at the weirdness but with a sigh, he leaned his shoulder against the door frame, watching her lift her leg up to the bar and lean, stretching her muscles, her arms reaching out.

"Your results came back fine."

His eyes watched her bend and lift back up, shocked how anyone could place themselves on the tips of their toes for a brief period of time.

"That's a relief."

Crossing his arms, he grumbled and glared down at the bag of sugar he still held. "So, tell me Dr. House." Ann began making him sigh. "Just House."

"Alright. House." She chuckled, lowering herself back to the balls of her feet before she began to raise her arms over her head. "How did your little meeting go with Dr. Wilson?"

"Fine." He answered bluntly, turning his head away. He watched from the corner of his eye as she twirled herself, her right leg kicking out to whip her around faster before she landed back on her feet fully. "Fine?" She mused, her body leaning forward, reaching down to the ground while her legs stayed locked. "You didn't jump the gun did you?"

"Not that its any of your business." He snapped causing her to giggle as she rose back up. "But Wilson and I have a date for Friday."

"Ohhh a date!" She bent forward again this time but she lifted her left leg back, reaching out to snatch her ankle and bend it up, it looked like she was trying to get her foot to touch the back of her head. Damn! She was flexible!

"Where to?"

"One of the local pubs, he wants to go singing with me Friday."

"Oh! Your talking about the bar 'Wilds!' right? Sweet! I might see you there then!"

"Might?"

"Well a lot of my friends at the bakery love karaoke night so we like to go every other Friday. I haven't been told yet, but if we go, then I'll be able to hear you sing! How awesome is that!"

"Not very Ann."

"Oh don't worry. I'm not going to interrupt you. I'm not going to cock block you on your first date."

He watched her quietly for a moment. Soon the song ended and another tune began to play and this time, she began to dance, very slow and gracefully. He didn't know why, but it was like she was floating on clouds, her steps making sure she didn't step on the wrong patch that would send her falling back to the earth. Watching her dance, he felt at ease. Calm. He never liked ballet, always found it boring, pointless. Its just people doing weird movements and bends and god awful leaps. Men dressed in to tight of clothing and women to skinny to be even close to attractive! He always pawned the ballet tickets he gets from people to Wilson knowing he would enjoy it a lot more.

But as House watched Ann dance, he was over come with something new. Something fresh. He watched every move she made, every kick and spin. Every lean and expression on her face. She looked so beautiful.

He didn't know how long he watched but soon that song ended as well and she was placed back onto the flat of her feet, her chest rising and falling in her deep pants. Glancing over, she gave him a childish grin making his chest tighten.

"So, House." She began, her hands finding her hips. "Will you need a bed buddy tonight?"

Squeezing the bag of sugar he still held, he glanced to the mirrors, staring at his own reflection. He looked worn out, tired. She asked him if he needed a bed buddy, she was asking him would he be alright alone tonight. He could say yes and invite her over or perhaps she would invite him to stay. He could lay beside her and watch her sleep like last night or perhaps he could try and give the talking thing a try and get some facts from her. To find out things about her. He knew nothing of her and he suddenly wanted to know more.

But at that moment, he didn't feel alone. If he laid in his own bed, he wouldn't feel he was in his pit, in his despair. No, he had hope. A small glimmer of hope in his heart that Wilson could finally be his. That hope gave him enough ease and joy that he could sleep soundly tonight without fear of nightmares.

"Nah, I'll take a rain check."

She smiled at him then and in his new world of hope, he smiled right back.


	17. Chapter 16

**/**

House stared at the ground quietly, his fingers lifting and dropping his cane in time with his watch. Another glance and his chest gave a little squeeze. Outside of the local, crowd growing bar 'Wilds!', his back to the neon red lights. Music blared from people trying to sing each lyric to a song their friends picked, oh heaven forbid, they thought they could do. Sitting on one of the wooden benches outside, House scanned the parking lot, trying to find the familiar car and driver inside. Dressing in his best, you honestly couldn't tell but if you knew him as well as Wilson, he dressed up. Dark blue denim jeans hugging his legs while a black dress shirt, ironed and pressed laid on top of one of his favorite red rock shirts. He also knew it was Wilson's favorite, it was the only shirt Wilson didn't mind if he wore twice in one day.

Kicking the ground, House pressed his lips. Another glance at his watch and he gave a stressful sigh, he still have fifteen more minutes before eight. Wilson would be there soon. Squeezing his cane, he took a deep breath, trying to plan things out. The night HAD to be perfect! If he could get through the night with Wilson smiling, then there would be a chance for them. If he tried hard enough, he could sway Wilson over to his place and let the magic begin.

Oh god. House shock his head quickly. That sounded WAY to gay.

The past two days went by like a breeze. Nothing major really happened, nothing exciting, nothing dramatic. Cuddy was ignoring him for the most part. He didn't blame her, she either felt guilty over the fact that she was STILL engaged to Lucas when she told him she wasn't, or she was hurt by his refusal. If he was any less of a man, he would have used her that night. Kissed her senseless and dragged her back to his room where he could pour out all his rage, all his hurt into a night of non-stop passion. He had the strange feeling, that if he did that. The next day he would wake up and see her and sadness would just run through him and soon, he would take it out on her. He couldn't do that to Cuddy nor could he do that to himself.

Wilson had been acting normal as well, thou he was giving off little hints of jealousy. Which left House tickled pink! Wilson would visit him in his office, even if its just to say hey or ask if they were still doing lunch. House believed Wilson turned green with envy after seeing what he did this very morning. House smirked to himself, Wilson could try to hide it all he wanted, House saw him on that second story on the lobby. Sure it was cruel, but he had to make sure it was true.

House was on his way to do his clinic hours when his name was called. Turning, he blinked in surprise when Annabelle stood in the lobby, her hands tucked behind her back. He approached her, asking why she was there. Dressed in a tube black sun dress that held white flowers along the skirts and bust, a long sleeve black half shrug covering her shoulders and arms, she gave a grin. Her hair was pulled up into her messy bun, letting those curls trail down along her back. Pulling her hands out, she held a small gift back in front of him. "Here."

House was shocked. Unsteadily, he took the gift bag, his eyes looking from the paper then to her. "What are you aiming at?" He demanded, his fingers holding the bag tightly. Annabelle waved her hand idly at him, "I thought this might help you with your big date."

"Why are you doing this?"

"This is what friends do House."

"No they don't."

She huffed then, crossing her arms. "Well its what 'I' do then."

With a press of his lips, he opened the bag and took out what was inside. Holding it up, his eyes widen a little at the bottle. Cologne. "You saying I smell bad?" She laughed out before shaking her head. "No, one of my workers at the café got a bottle of the stuff and they gave her a free bottle as a promo. She didn't really need two so I asked her if I could have it to give to you." Taking the bottle from his hands, she opened it. House glared at her for a moment when she snatched his free hand, giving his wrist a small sprit.

"I'm not smelling my wrist." He muttered. He began to look around and sudden felt embarrasses. Nurses and staffs were starting to look at him, whispering among one another. Normally he never minded the talk but this time, it bothered him. Ann pouted before lifting his hand forcefully to his own nose. "Just take a sniff. Tell me if you like it!"

Giving a groan, he closed his eyes and took quick whiff before widening his eyes. Bowing his head a little more, he took a deeper breath, letting the scent swim around his senses. It was spicy, warm. It was almost sweet, like one of those little red hots candy. His nose tickled but he couldn't keep back a deep sigh.

"I thought it smelt like you." She whispered. Lowering his arm, he looked down to her and his lips gave a small smile. She looked up at him warmly, her cheeks glowing pink. She could smell it as well and by the look of her face, it had a reaction on her. He was almost tempted to spray the stuff all over him and bring her closer, just to see if she would really swoon, surrender herself to him helplessly. Capping the bottle, she placed it back in the bag before stating, her hand tapping his chest lightly.

"Good luck stud."

He turned and watched her walk away, his eyes burning into her back. Why was she helping him? What was she aiming at? With a helpless shrug, he turned to go back to the clinic and yet he noticed a still body up high. A quick glance and he saw Wilson standing at the railing of the second floor, his fingers tight, his face twisted. He was upset. He was jealous.

And House was LOVING it.

Now, House sat waiting, his fingers giving his cane another squeeze. He wondered if Wilson would like the cologne. House grinned at the idea of Wilson getting close enough, to watch his eyes close and take a deep breath. He wanted Wilson to swoon, to press close, to smother his face into House's throat, into his body. Another glance to his watch, he counted five minutes til. Grinning to himself, House sat back, keeping himself alert.

Wilson should be showing up any minute now.

**/**

**/**

Wilson arrived home around six, his heart racing. Why was he suddenly so nervous? He went out to bars with House all the time, why was tonight making him feel like he was a teenager going on his first date. He touched his face, searching in a panic thinking he might just turn back into that boy and find himself breaking out.

Collecting himself, Wilson got out of his car. He needed to get ready. When he got to his loft, he walked in on Sam who was dressed to impresses. His jaw dropped a little when she turned to him, her body was shaped into a skin tight black dress that stopped at her knees, it was so tight, his eyes could see the round bump of her hips and backside. The top was a halter, forming almost an heart on the collar. Her arms were bare, aside from the sliver bracelets on her wrists. Her blond curls were pulled back from her face, pinned in place. She looked professional, beautiful.

"What's.. with the dress?" He asked.

"I have a budget dinner tonight. I told you about it a week ago."

His eyes shot wide as fear covered his face. "Y-You did?" Sam gave a huff before placing her hands on her hips. Tapping her black heels at him. "You forgot didn't you?"

"I-I'm so sorry, I can't believe I forgot!"

"Well its not for another 30 minutes so go get change. We should be able to make it."

"Okay, wait no. I have to call House."

Wilson began to dig for his cell phone when Sam covered her hand with his own. "Its about your guy night right?" She asked softly. He gave a nod and she smiled, her lips touching his cheek. "I already called him."

"You called House?"

"I called your assistant this afternoon," She began, her hands taking his brief case. "I wanted to leave a note for you to pick up a bottle of wine for my boss, you didn't get it hm?"

His cheeks went a little red, he could only give a helpless smile that made her roll her eyes. "She told me you planned to leave early, something about a bar. I figured you were going out with House, so I gave him a call and told him you had a dinner meeting to go too and you too could hit the bar next week."

"And House was okay with this?" He asked in disbelief, Sam only slapped his shoulder. "Hell no, he wouldn't shut up about it for ten minutes! He told me I now owed him a lap dance for canceling last minute."

"Wow, he's raising the bar, last time when Amber canceled, he asked for a five minute grope. Of his choosing of course."

Sam rubbed her forehead muttering, "You have the grosses friends sometimes James."

"But House said it was okay?"

She nodded, giving him a shove smiling. "Yes, don't worry about it not go get ready! I don't want to be late!" Wilson didn't move right away, he looked down at his cell that lingered in his hand. He should call and make sure House was okay with it, maybe to try and reschedule.

"James!"

He jerked before holding his hands up in surrender, "okay okay!" Sliding his coat off, he walked to his bedroom sighing. Well, if Sam did call him and tell him then it would be pointless for Wilson to call too right? House would just call him a sissy or a worry wort and proclaim him to being a women before hanging up for the night. "I'm going to hear about it tomorrow, I hope you know that."

She laughed at him, watching him disappear behind their bedroom door. The second he was out of plain sight, her smile dropped. "Shit." She muttered, biting her thumb nail. This was bad, really bad.

Everything was going wrong, falling apart right in front of her! When she called Wilson's assistant, she did indeed plan on asking him to pick up something but she just asked how he was doing as well. Sam was worried, Wilson was acting weird all week. He barley responded to her when she spoke to him in the morning, he was fidgeting, nervous. Something was on his mind but every time she tried to find out, he just changed the subject and ran away. She didn't understand, she found out then from the nurse that Wilson was going out that night.

With House.

Sam hung up pissed. She had the best few weeks without House butting his nose into their personal business. Wilson was starting to come around the idea of them trying again at marriage. She just had to prove to him, show him how happy their life could be. The biggest problem in her way was House.

'_You're a selfish, manipulated bitch who will do nothing but break his heart.'_

She hated him at that moment and grew to despise him a little more every day after that. She wouldn't let House take Wilson away from her. She knew the stories, she knew all about Wilson's past wives, past girlfriends, how they never stuck around long enough for House kept stealing him away. Wilson always picked him.

This time, Wilson would pick her.

She'll make sure of it.

**/**

**/**

_"_ I am in misery! There ain't no body who can comfort me!"

Annabelles voice cracked but she didn't care, the spot lights shined on her, the music poured and the steady beat of her heart kept in time.

"Why won't you answer me? The Silence is slowly killing me! Oh yeah!"

She sang the chorus, laughing out half way through when her friends cheered and sang along. This was why Ann loved karaoke nights. You didn't have to know how to sing, you didn't have to even stress about it. You could pick a song, get up on stage and sing to your hearts content and there would always be someone cheering, someone singing along with you. You never leave the stage unhappy, never left wanting to hide. You left with a smile on your face and a witty comment or two.

Her song finished and her friends clapped for her, some guys at the bar clapped as well in their drunken state but she accepted it, giving a dramatic bow. Jumping off stage, the DJ called the next name and she returned to her table.

"Good lord, how many times do ya have to sing that song before you at least hit one note right?" Her friend Ash asked, her southern accent more crisp due to her drinking. Ann just stuck her tongue out. "You still wanna go to 'I'm a slave for you' with me?" Jammie gave Ann her pleaing gaze, her round face mimicking a begging chipmunk that Ann couldn't help but hug her, messing with her hair. "People's ears will be bleeding but sure."

"They already knew that when they walked in." Stacy, Ann's more stand offish friends mused, taking a sip from her Sheryl temple. Ann looked forward to every Friday night, she never got to see her friends that much due to their work schedules and personal lives. Stacy was an assistant manager of an game store while Ash was an Co manager of a retail fashion store in a near by mall. Jammie on the other hand, was struggling to find a job while trying to live out the glory months of her recent marriage.

"Who wants another round? I just got paid so I'll buy." Ash proclaimed loudly, pushing herself to stand. Stacy rose quickly responding, "I better help you."

"Oh my god, I'm not that drunk!" Ash protested, smacking her friends arm only to still be followed close behind. "I know, I just don't want you to spit in my drink."

"I think Stacy still has a thing for her." Jammie whispered making Ann laugh out. It wasn't that much of a secret, Ash and Stacy had been childhood friends since the tender age of ten. Stacy came out in her blossoming days of seventh grade and the first person she told was Ash.

Ash, on the other hand, loved to learn new things and followed after Stacy and tried the whole, 'coming out' and dubbed it, 'weird and annoying.' in ninth grade. After that, everything was history. But Stacy seemed to keep rescuing Ash whenever the time called for it. Jammie teased and said it was because Stacy wanted to get into her pants, Ann thought different.

"I'm going to step outside for a second." Ann patted Jammies shoulder, "Hold my spot til I get back kay?"

Jammie nodded as Ann began to leave, shoving her purse under her arm. Fanning herself, Annabelle stepped outside to the cool air, letting out a deep sigh. There was a bigger crowed in there tonight that the AC wasn't helping with the body heat. Pressing her back to the wall beside the main door, she glanced behind her, letting her eyes roam over every face she could find,

She felt like a stalker.

Well, more pathetic then that. She was here with her friends, to have a good time, party and yet, she kept catching herself glancing to the doors whenever someone walked in. She glanced around helplessly, wanting to see that familiar old face. She was nervous for him, she crossed her fingers and truly hoped he would get his wish, he deserved that. Giving up, she took a deep breath and pushed off the wall, she better return before her friends took her food.

As she began to turn, her eyes glanced around and spotted a lone stranger sitting on one of the wooden benches. What got her eye was the cane lingering at his side. A grin appeared on her face when she finally noticed the familiar graying hair. As quick as her heels could take her, she snuck up behind him.

"There you are!"

He didn't even flinch, House just sat there, his eyes staring at the road. Making her way around, she dropped beside him, placing her purse in her lap. "I was wondering if you were going to show."

"Hm.." Was all he said. She frowned a little, he looked… scary. His face was tired and his eyes didn't shine with that teasing glint. "So…Where's Wilson?"

"We're suppose to met here." He spoke lightly. He didn't move, he was like a statue, his body stiff and hard.

"Oh? What time is he showing up?"

"Eight…"

Annabelles, eyes snapped wide in shock. Looking to her watch, her heart dropped.

It was nine thirty.

"I've been stood up." He stated simply, his fingers squeezing his cane. Suddenly, she felt sick. House had sat outside on this bench for an hour and a half, waiting for his friend to show up. He must of kept telling himself that Wilson was running late, he might of thought of getting up and walking away but stayed put in fear, that if he did maybe his friend wont suddenly show.

"Maybe something happened, did you try to ca-"

"Turned his phone off."

She went quiet, her gaze joining his on the road.

He was an idiot. Closing his eyes, his jaw clenched. He was a fucking idiot. Why did this surprise him? Why did he think Wilson could pry himself away from that women? Why did he hope? Why did he let this hurt so bad? Closing his eyes tightly, he shoved himself to his feet. He was disgusted with himself, he should have stayed home, he should have never agreed to do this. He moved to leave, he needed to get away but his arm was snatched.

"House, don't leave like this..."

He looked back to her. Annabelle stood beside him, grabbing his arm tightly. Her face struggled to hold that smile, he could see that lip tremble and those eyes darken with pity. "Let go." He growled.

"Come inside with me." She suggested instead, giving him a light stroke along his arm, was she treating him like an injurt animal? Trying to coo and coax him. Why was she doing this to him? "We can still have a good time, you can sing out all of this, just come with m-"

"Let me go!"

House snatched his arm away from her, his heart twisted in grief and rage. Couldn't she tell he was upset? Couldn't she just leave him alone for one second? "I'm going home, its pointless to be here." He tried to walk away but she rushed forward, placing herself in his path.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" He finally had it, enough was enough. He tried to kept all his sorrow, all his hate that was building for the past hour, inside, not wanting to break here, not wanting to show how much this affected him but Ann had opened that door and he couldn't stop himself.

"House, calm down."

"I'm sick of people telling me what to do! Telling me to calm down, telling me what time to show up, what I should wear. I'm sick of it! I'm the greatest Diagnostic doctor out here and I'm being treated like a fucking five year old!"

She frowned, her hands trembling when they touched his chest to stop him. "I didn't mean to treat you like that, I was just trying to help."

"I didn't ask for your help!" He shoved her hands away. He didn't want her touch, he didn't want her sad eyes on him. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to go back in time and refuse Wilson offer, to tell him to get bent and get on with his own life. "I never did! You push yourself on me, what for? Is your life so pathetic that you have to mingle into someone else's to make it better? The anti-depressants just arn't cutting it hmm?"

Her face went a sicken shade of pale, her eyes growing wide in uncertainty, like he had just slapped her across the face. Her lips moved, her voice trying to form words from her shock, her hand touched her collar bone lightly, her expression showed him her shame. "I-I can explain that.,"

"I don't care." He spat, shoving past her. "You and everyone else can go straight to hell."

"House wait!"

He stopped at the raw plea in her voice. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched. She stood there trembling, her head tucked down. Her arms hugging herself, one hand grabbing her hip tightly while the other clung to her left forearm, squeezing. "I need you to stay." She whispered.

"Why?"

She closed her eyes tightly, her shoulders trembling. What was wrong with her? Lifting her head, she looked at him, her eyes seemed lost, helpless. "We're so much alike House." She whispered, her steps closing in on him. "We need to help each other, please stay with me."

"Your crazy." That comment made her flinch, she was quick to shake her head. "No, I know your pain. We have a lot in common House, we can lean on each other. Please, let me help you… so you can help me."

"I don't want to help anymore." He turned his back to her, his grip threatening to brake his cane in half. "I'm sick of helping everyone. I'm sick of being nice, of trying to make everyone else's life better. We have NOTHING in common Ann, you don't know what its like to wake up everyday to pain knowing you can't do anything about it! To watch the person you love be happy with someone else!"

"House I do-"

"NO YOU DON'T!" He turned toward her, pointing his finger to her scared face. "You know NOTHING! So don't even pretend. I don't want you to come near me EVER again Annabelle! Stay the fuck away from me!"

She didn't try to stop him, what would be the point now? With arms slump at her side, she watched him leave. Helpless. Ashamed and deep down, hurt.

"…House…"

**/**

**/**


	18. Chapter 17

**/**

**/**

Why didn't anyone come and get him? On the ground, House looked up at the door before him. He was cold, shivering outside in the night. Turning his gaze aside, he watched the shadows dance across curtains that covered the single window. He frowned at the figures, there were two people inside. Raising his hand, he touched the door and scratched it lightly. He opened his mouth to call out but only a soft whimper came.

Why didn't they come get him?

House closed his eyes tightly, pressing closer to the door. Voice's were muffled, he could hear them. A male and a female. Try as he might to listen, their words began to blend together. Before he could understand the bickering, the door was suddenly yanked open. He stumbled a little but caught himself, his eyes shooting wide. He stared at the ground but his arms were not under him, no, they were smaller, covered in grayish brown short hairs. Fur? He moved his fingers and claws scratched the ground. He panicked, throwing his head back up, he gazed up at the two before him, a laugh joy coming out of his mouth.

Wilson stood over him, his face sad and worried and there was Sam standing behind him, her arms crossed over her stomach in irritation. "We can't leave him like this," Wilson spoke, his hand reaching out. House pushed forward, wanting to feel those fingers on his face, needing to feel some kind of warmth. But Sam snatched his hand away quickly, her face looked at Wilson in dumb founded rage.

"James! You don't know where's he has been."

"Sam, he's cold. Lets just get him someth-"

"I know you want to help everything little thing but you can't help this one." Pulling his hand, she began to turn Wilson's back to House, stepping deeper into the house. House trembled in fear before he called out, his voice came out in a hoarse sound instead. Wilson glanced back with sorrow, Sam simply took the door in her free hand. Their eyes locked and for a split second, her lips gave a cold smile as she whispered.

"He's to old anyway, he won't last very long."

The door shut in front of him and inside, House felt empty. Why wasn't Wilson helping him? Why wouldn't anyone help him? Sounds reached his ears, it took a moment to realize it was himself crying, whimpering into the night sky.

"You poor thing."

Glancing back slowly, tears falling down his muzzle, he looked down the steps to a figure, the street lamp over head casting the person face in shadow. It was a women. Dressed warmly, a violet scarf wrapped around her throat. A beanie laid on her head, causing long curls of brown hair trail around her shadow covered face. He watched her lips give a sweet smile. "You must be cold."

He sniffled, feeling something strange brush along his spine. His tail wagged slowly, his heart aching for attention. She knelt at the bottom step, her left hand reaching out. "Its okay, come here bubby."

He glanced back to the door, his paw scratching at the door lightly again in hope that perhaps Wilson would return. The shadows in the window simply went on, ignoring him, leaving him. Looking back to the women below, he watched her beckon him, her gloved covered fingers trying to touch him. With sore legs, he pushed himself up and began to make his way down the stone steps. The closer he got, the more the air became sweet, relaxing. Stepping off the last stone, he looked up to her, waiting for her to leave him, waiting for him to notice he was old and worthless and leave. Just like everyone else.

Tender fingers touched his head, trailing to his ears that he couldn't keep himself from leaning in. He was pulled closer and soon, he found himself wrapped in the scent of her body. Coconut and villana filled his nose that it almost made him dizzy. Those hands trailed down along the back of his neck to his spine, making him groan out in delight before pushing closer.

"Its okay." She whispered, her voice echoing. " I'm here now."

**/**

House jerked up in a gasp, his fists clutching his sheets tightly. Staring into the darkness of his own room, he tried to control his breathing. What the hell was that? He wondered. Touching his face, he let out a deep sigh before taking his sheets, wiping away the sweat the covered his forehead. Why wasn't anything good happening to him? Everything just seemed to be blowing up in his face.

Glancing to his alarm clock, he bowed his head, his body slumping to the side on his bed. In a few more hours, he had to go to work. He spent the whole weekend, locked up in his apartment, not stepping foot outside for anything. There was nothing he wanted to do outside, Besides, he didn't want to chance himself with running into Annabelle. He felt guilty for what he said to her, he was just pissed off and like an idiot he took it out on her just because she was closet.

House didn't want to admit it, but deep down. He was sad. Not over the fact Wilson ditched him, yeah that sucked, but it wasn't unexpected, he was pretty sure this had Sam written all over it. It hurt him deeply and he wasn't looking forward to seeing Wilson later on. No, what he was sad about, was that fact there wasn't a knock on his door. He really thought Ann would be her pushy self and knock on his door. Demand he let her in, use some bull shit excuse like, 'can't be alone' like she did the last time.

But he never heard her knock. Never heard her come near his door. Pulling the covers back over his shoulders, he closed his eyes sadly. She listened to him and deep down. He wished she didn't.

**/**

**/**

It was a good day. Wilson hummed to himself happily as he made his way back to his office from his rounds. Lunch would be soon and his stomach was giving off the warning growls. Handing his file over to his assistant, he thought about stopping by his friends office.

He haven't heard from his stubborn friend all weekend and that struck him as odd. Maybe he was still sore about their guy night being canceled. It couldn't be helped! Wilson pressed his lips and kept telling himself everything would be okay. He had to have picked up his cell phone and dialed his friends number over twenty times that whole weekend but every time he did, Sam would ask him what he was doing and he would only slip his phone away and shrug it off.

Grabbing his wallet from his office, he mused, whistling to himself happily. He'll just buy his friend lunch like normal and everything will go back to the way it was.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Wilson came to a dead stop at that statement. Turning around, a grin appeared on his face as his opens opened up. Sam walked over to met him, a giggle on her lips. Dressed in her relax attire, jeans and a nice top. She gave him a hug in which he returned.

"What are you doing here?"

"I had some free time and thought I stop by and see if you're free for lunch."

He laughed a little, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh wow, um, I just on my way down to the cafeteria."

"Looks like I made it just in time." He gave her a soft laugh and began to offer his arm when he heard his name called out again. He turned with a smile, to greet who ever said his name.

Until a thick cold subtends slapped him.

Thick globs trailed down his face to his torso, seeping into his coat, into his shirt. Eyes tightly closed, he opened his mouth in shock before spitting out the grape flavor. He heard Sam next to him gasping, dumbfounded. He licked his lips from the wetness, tasting the grape ice. A slushy?

Wiping his face with his hand, he opened his eyes to see who willing attacked him.

His gaze found a glaring Annabelle standing.

"Why did you do that?" Sam shrieked, grabbing Wilson's coat tails to reach up and wipe his face clean from the sticky treat. Ann just looked into her empty cup, "You, sir, has just been slushed." They both looked at her confused before she snapped her fingers, "That's right! I said it! I just went 'Glee' all over your ass!"

"What is your deal?" Wilson demanded but the empty cup was tossed, slapping him in his soaked chest.

"YOU! You're my problem!" She marched over quickly, dressed in her thin black shrug trying to hide the white apron that tied around her small frame. Did she just come from home? From a cooking class? She stabbed him in the chest with her finger, her eyes flaming with unspoken rage. What had he done to her to make her so pissed?

"If you EVER pull what you did last time again, I'm going to make sure you get food poisoning for a week. You hear me?"

Sam pushed her hand off from Wilson, stepping herself between them. "Your crazy."

"No!" She snapped, "I'm pissed." Flicking her thick braid over her shoulder, she pointed her finger back into Wilson's face. "You're suppose to be his best friend."

With a huff, Ann spun on her heel and left. Wilson stood there shocked while Sam pressed her lips and tried to clean him back up. "Who the hell does she think she is?" Sam complained, "She ruined your best shirt. We should call security!"

"Wouldn't do much, what did she mean by I'm his best friend? Was she talking about House?"

"Who the hell knows, god its going to stain, who throws drinks?"

"One of House's friends."

"Well, he would pick the insane ones. Come on, we better get you a change of clothes." She snatched his arm but he couldn't help but look back. Why was Annabelle so pissed and why did she say such a thing?

Was House that upset about their date night?

**/**

**/**

House pushed his glasses up a little more over his eyes as he read his medical journal. Foremen informed him of the lack of case's so House was left with an afternoon with nothing better to do. Normally he would bust into Wilson's office and bug him but he didn't feel ready. Not yet.

Flipping the page, he let out a deep sigh. He wanted to do something and yet, he didn't. He was restless and yet he was tired.

His body jerked violently when his door opened suddenly. "Really House? You had to have someone else fight your battles?"

Pushing his glasses down his nose a little, he looked and busted out laughing at the sight. Wilson stood, hair damp and sticking up on end, his white coat was stained purple along the shoulders and collar. His light green shirt was wet, his tie was dripping onto the floor. "Wow. New look?"

"I had been 'sloshed.', if that's the term."

"Did the seniors finally get you? don't worry, every freshmen has to go through it."

"Not funny." Wilson muttered before groaning, rubbing his face with one of his moist toilettes. "Jeez, we're you that pissed off about Friday night?"

"What are you talking about? What does that have to do with your sudden appearance?"

"Annabelle came over a few minutes ago and threw her drink at me and basically gave me the third degree over you. Jeez House, if you were that upset, you could have told me!"

"You know I I wouldn't and what do you mean Ann did this?"

Wilson grumbled as he brushed his hair back, "You know how to pick friends, I tell you. Sam is running home to pick me up a change on clothing."

"My Ann…did this?"

Wilson pressed his lips in a pout as House got up, his face shocked. He hadn't heard from her all weekend, House just thought she gave up on him or just listened to him and went on with her life but to hear she came to his work, by passed his office and him just to find Wilson and… fight for him? Snatching his coat from his chair, he began to limp past his friend.

"Hey! We're not done talking."

"You're keep dripping on my floor, your paying for new carpet." Wilson's jaw dropped as House left. He quickly shock himself back into pace and chased House down. "House! What about Friday!"

"You owe me."

"House if you're upset about me not going then we need to talk about it."

"Looks like you talked enough about it with Ann. If you will excuse me, I have some clinic hours to do."

"You hate clinic hours."

"Good point, looks like I'm just avoiding you, bye now." Slamming the red button, House watched the elevator door close on his friends face, leaving him alone to fume. Ann didn't bother to come by and check up on him? She took it into her own hands to go off and fight his battles? He could have thrown his own drink into Wilson's face, he would have at his own pace and on his own grounds!

He needed to get to the bottom of this.

**/**

**/**

So this was the place. House stood outside of one of the many ballet studios lining up the downtown village, staring at the display windows of his target place. No one was inside, aside from some of the workers who looked like they were packing up.

He had stopped by Annabelle's café first, only to be told she had left an hour earlier to work her other job. That info took some time to get, it seemed everyone at the café knew about their little fight. They didn't even look at him when he entered to ask for her. There was only one girl, the newbie he guessed, who approached him once everyone left him. She was a shy little thing with short blond hair. She touched his forearm lightly and told him she often over heard Ann speaking about him.

'Couples have their fights.' She stated making him frown. Before he could tell her that they, Ann and himself, were not a couple, she patted his shoulder lightly. 'Don't worry.' She smiled shyly. 'She'll forgive you, her studio is called 'Un pas de danse'.

It was a weird name to pick for a studio. Translation was 'One Step Dance'. Calling his team, he had Taub track the address down and had Chase track thirteen down. He still needed to talk to that women to find out what exactly is going on with her. Apparently it proved to be difficult since Taub never got back to him until now.

The sun was setting and his watch was beeping that it was now eight. He should be home, watching T.V. feeding his pet Steve and yet, here he was. Outside of this dance studio.

Suddenly he felt nervous, his stomach felt heavy and his palms were sweating. He felt… guilty. He wanted to find out why she did what she did to Wilson but he also wanted to know if she hated him too. He approached the door quietly, wondering if he could get in. Maybe the girls inside would be like the ones in the café and tell him to get lost. That's just what he needed. He should just turn around and forget all about this and go back home.

Next thing he knew, he was reaching for the main door when it suddenly swung open. House jumped back when a young women stepped out. Bright red hair covered the her face in ringlets but not enough to cover those freckles that covered her nose and cheeks. She was still dressed in her ballet uniform, the only difference would be her tennis shoes. She looked up at him surprised and gave him a one over with her green eyes before grinning.

"You must be House!"

"Uh…" She only giggled, waving her hands at him. "Sorry, you are House right? Annabelle talks about you, says you were the older type with a cane." He frowned at the 'old' statement but he watched her cheeks flare slightly pink when she muttered. "You have to be him,' she pointed at his face slightly, "she told me, you had the prettiest blue eyes she ever saw."

A little smirk touched his lips at that. He liked it, knowing that Annabelle was talking about him. Almost praising him, it did his ego good. "Is she still here?"

She nodded, pulling the strap of her bag a little more on her shoulder, "she likes to stay late sometimes to practice. She should be in the back."

"She practices here too?"

"Its rare which I think is weird. She owns this place and is one of the best dancers I've ever seen and yet, she will drive home to do her training. I always wanted to ask her why but its not my place to pry." Bidding him good bye, she left the door open, leaving him to enter the quiet studio.

The place was pretty big, a dressing room on one side, the main floor with windows lining the wall in front of the windows, letting the sunlight guide them in their movements. He walked to the very end of the wall to find a hallway that lead him to the second dance floor and what he could only assume was the main office.

There were foot steps that were not his own and deep sighs coming out from around the corner. Sliding closer, he peeked around and watched.

Annabelle was tinkering with her CD player. Her hair was pulled up in a tight twisted bun, her body covered in her uniform and thin jacket. House noticed her hands were shaking as they lowered to her side. She looked scared. He looked around, wondering if there was anyone else there that was making her feel this way. With another deep breath, she rose her trembling hands and touched her jacket, slowly pushing it off. House suddenly realized, he had never seen Ann wear anything strapless or short sleeves. She always wore a coat, a jacket or long sleeves shirts. The jacket slipped off her bare shoulders and was tossed to the ground, letting House's jaw drop and his hand to grip the wall tightly.

Along Ann's left shoulder, running down to the end of her shoulder blade, a scar laid. It was jaded and long, an upside down Y. Like lighten bolts it imprinted her tan skin. By his trained eye, he could tell it was an old scar, the skin was tough and healed fully, showing its white under layer. He was speechless at the sight.

'_We're so much alike House.' _

She was right, she had confessing something to him that night and he turned away. He pressed his back into the wall, his hand covering his mouth. What had happen to her? Why did she hide it from him, from everyone?

"_We have a lot in common House, we can lean on each other. Please, let me help you… so you can help me."_

Was that what she was talking about? Closing his eyes tightly, he heard music began to play. She had spent days with him, nursing him with kind words and reminders, helping him keep out of the shadows of his nightmares and the one time she asked for his help, he tossed her aside like old news and went back to his selfish ways.

He was a dick.

Glancing back, he watched her move, dancing, her eyes closed to the beat of the music. She danced to 'Glitter in the air' by pink and House felt his soul cry for her. Her movements, her expression was so sad. Did he do that to her? Did he make her that sad?

He had to fix this. Pressing his lips, he turned around and walked back down the hallway.

He was going to fix this.

He just had to figure out how.


	19. Chapter 18

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**/**

Annabelle groaned into her pillow, burying her cheek a little deeper into the cotton. The buzzing in her ear was getting louder, trying to rip her out of her blank dreams. Opening her eyes, she glanced around, her vision blurred from sleep before focusing on the soft yellow of her walls. Bowing her head, she reached out towards the sound, her hands seeking, smacking her night stand until she hit her clock, cutting the siren to silence.

Rolling onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom, watching the sunlight dance across the air from her windows. Glancing back to her alarm, she took a deep breath. Six A.M.

"To early.."

Pushing the covers off, Ann rose to her feet, stretching her arms over her head in a yawn. Stiff bones cracked in her shoulders and neck before she rose full to stand, making her way unsteady to her bathroom. Rolling her fingers threw her hair, she grumbled. She needed to get her hair cut.

Glancing in her mirror, she picked at her hair frowning. The split ends were crazy, she looked like a poodle! It went all the way to her thighs, curling out like little vines, wanting to wrap around something. Grabbing her hair tie, she began to wrap her hair back up into a messy bun, at least it get out of her way while she did her morning tasks.

Once done, she smiled and slipped her baggy shirt off. A nice hot shower was what she needed to wake up. Turning the water on, she hummed lightly as she waited for the water to warm. Glancing over, she caught her image in the mirror and looked for any signs of marks or brake outs. One could never be to careful!

Pain shot threw her left arm making her gasp. She hated this part. Reaching up, her hand grabbed her shoulder tightly, feeling the ruined skin. A pulse and her body dropped to its knees, pressing into her tub's side. It hurt, closing her eyes tightly she hissed and cried out weakly.

She could smell it, the gas, the smoke. Her nails curled, her skin was melting! Her scar pulsed and burned into her back bring tears to her eyes. She could still see it, the flash of white pain, being pinned.

"Its okay." She hiccupped. The doctors told her that pain was all in her head. Phantom pain, she just had to realize it. She tried and every day, whenever her eyes fell on her scar, it flared up and burned her, making her feel the pain all over again. It wasn't a needle prick pain, it felt like someone was taking a red hot poker and was smearing the red coals into her flesh.

Sniffling, she wiped at her tears once the pain began to dull down to a light throb. She hated this. Closing her eyes tightly, feeling the hot mist from her shower begin to coat her skin, she let out a deep sob. When she found out House had a scar on his thigh and was suffering pain due to it, she thought she finally found someone who could relate to her, someone who could help her deal.

She tried to stop her hiccups, her arms hugging herself tightly. Her selfish act to get House to be close to her, to help her caused him to run away from her. She was back in square one. Taking a deep breath, she collected and slowly pushed herself back up to her shaking legs, slipping into her shower.

**/**

Annabelle sang to herself lightly as she did her warm up exercises. Watching herself in her wall length mirror with pressed lips . Maybe she did over do it when she designed this room. She owned a studio that had three stages for her students to dance on and yet, she refused to stay late. It was a sad truth, the studio got hot after a while that her body sweats and begs her to remove her shrug, her over shirts but she couldn't. She didn't want to show her scar to her students, she did want them to see why…

After her hour of practice, she ready herself for her first shift at her café. Tucking her apron over her left arm, she locked her front door. She still had thirty minutes, perhaps she had enough time to pick up a little fast food. Working so long in a bakery, you would end up hating sweets every now and then. As she walked, she came to a slow stop in front of her neighbors door, her eyes staring. Was House alright? After her little episode, she figured House would be at her door, demanding to know why she threw her drink in his crushes face. Yeah, it was childish but that was unfair what Wilson did to House! Ditching him after House got all his hopes up.

She wouldn't deny it, seeing that smile turn into a outrage gap in front of his 'girlfriend', she felt damn good. Touching the door lightly, she let out a sigh before walking off, digging her keys from her purse. Oh well.

**/**

**/**

Wilson crossed his arms as he watched his friend fuss over his computer. He had been standing in the door frame of House's office for the past five minutes and House didn't even notice. What was he doing? House did have his ear phones on, his face scrunched in a snarl as his fingers kept clicking on the mouse. Was he looking something up?

Approaching the desk, Wilson reached out and waved his hand in front of the screen causing House to jump. Looking up, House sighed with irritation, "Whhhattt.?" House whined, "Can't you see I'm doing something?"

"I can. What are you looking at?"

House quickly shut his laptop, blocking him off. "Jeez, do I walk into your office and butt my nose into your business?"

"Is that a trick question?"

" Am I doing it now?"

"Ugh." Rolling his hand through his hair, Wilson just sighed. "Look, I just wanted to know if we're still up for tonight."

House's face went blank, his brow shooting up. "Tonight?"

"Yeah, the bar. Remember?"

"Huh… sure." House opened his lap top slowly, letting his confused gaze go back to the screen. "Any way, I was planning on going to the bar tonight."

"Great, what time should we met?"

"Whenever."

Wilson frowned a little. House wasn't treating this like he normally did. It sounded more cold, more annoying. It was like he just didn't care.

"Alright, does nine sound okay? I still have paper work to catch up on."

"Sure, met you inside."

House didn't even look up when Wilson agreed. He said his good bye and only got House's waved hand as a signal to leave. Once outside, Wilson glanced back and watched House slip the head phones back on and huff, his finger going back to his tapping. What was he doing?

Something wasn't right here…

**/**

**/**

"So! I said, 'sorry, it's been worn, I can't take it back.' and she got all huffy, telling me she couldn't see the stain. It was right on the bust! People annoy me sometimes, I swear!"

Annabelle nodded as she whipped up the next batch of muffins. Ash stood in front of her, leaning on the glass display case with a brownie in hand. Ash liked to visit on her breaks sometimes to rant about her work or to tell Annabelle about a new promotion, always trying to change Ann's look. She didn't mind thou, she enjoyed the company, her friend could talk a mile a minute and be annoying to other people but Ann found it more entertaining.

"Anyway, you sound make these with caramel." Ash waved the brownie before taking another bit muttering, "Jenn use to make these caramel delights, they were like, half oatmeal, half brownie and all caramel. It was epic." Ann just nodded, pouring her mixes into her six cup trays. "I'll think about it."

"Oh! About thinking, what time you going to be at the bar tonight? I need to sing like 'crazy' tonight, I had the most shitty week and a little 'Sad but true' will cure it."

Ann pressed her lips a little as she tapped her spoon lightly on the bowl. "About that." She whispered. "I...don't think I'm going tonight."

Ash's mouth dropped a little before she freaked. "What? Why not? You better have a good excuse!"

Ann just shrugged, walking away to dump her used bowl into her sink. "I'm just not feeling up to it. Maybe next week."

She readied herself for her friend to argue back but all she heard was silence. Glancing over, she saw her friend leaning on the glass display, her head tilted in thought. "Something's brother you. What's up?"

Looking away, Annabelle just squeezed the counter, keeping her back to her friend. "Nothing, I'm just really tired."

"What is it you told me last year? After my break down?"

Ann closed her eyes a little, her arms lifting to hug herself. "You remember that?' Ash asked lightly making Ann give a small nod.

Ash looked around, seeing the small crowed of costumer and most of the employees busying themselves, she began to whisper, her fingers tapping lightly on the display case.

"I came in here depressed and you gave me one of your apple swirl cookie and asked me what was wrong. I didn't tell you and you remember what you said to me?"

Ann pressed her lips a little as her friends voice spoke out the words in her head.

" 'If you wont tell me, how about singing it?' I have to tell you, I never had anyone ask me to sing to them about my problems but you took my arm and dragged me to that 'Wilds' bar and told me to get on stage. I still remember thinking it was a stupid idea but my life sucked already, what would this do? God, what song did I sing?"

"Better then me." Ann answered, making Ash smile sadly. "That's right.."

Annabelle turned back to her friend smiling sadly. Ash was rubbing her left shoulder, her fingers tracing the tattoo she had imprinted on her skin. A 'reminder' she stated. Ann still remembered that day, Ash had just broke up with her girlfriend, the one time Ann was shocked to find out she was bi; and became depressed due to the actions. Ann never got the details of what happened or why she felt that way, but she had an inside peek when Ash sang.

She wasn't 'that' bad of a singer but Ash sang with all the depression and need. She threw herself into those words, threw those lyrics, Ann could almost understand what she was feeling and see her pain. By the time the song was done, people clapped for her and Ash walked off the stage wiping her tears. One look at Ann and she just gave a small smile and muttered, _'… that was stupid AND embarrassing… thanks_.'

After that, Ash joined in, followed soon by her close friend, Stacy, on their Friday night singing and every now and then, when Ash felt that old pain, she got up and sang that song just to make herself feel better.

"So, Annie."

At her name, she watched her friend smile, taking another bit out of her brownie.

"If you wont tell me, how about singing it?"

**/**

**/**

Annabelle took another sip from her glass as she watched a six man group called the 'GameStop gang' bellow a rap song to what she believed to be, 'Ice ice baby.' Her friends were enjoying themselves, Jammie was waving her arms singing along while Stacy played on her phone. As much as she wanted to enjoy herself, Ann just wanted to go home. Tugging her thin sweater a little more, she thought about ditching, trying to think of an excuse that would work, a plan to get away.

"So what are you going to sing chicka?"

Ann jumped when Ash wrapped her arm around her, basically planting her down. Damn. "Um, I don't know yet."

"Well I hope you figure it out soon, I already put your name down."

"What?"

"Your welcome." Ann puffed her cheeks in a huff, feeling Ash give her shoulder a squeeze before letting go. Settling down beside her, Ash looked her friend over before whispering, "Are you sure you don't wanna talk about it? I wont judge you."

"I just want to go home." Ann whispered, covering her face with her hands. Ash rubbed her back a little, a sigh falling from her lips. "Just one song kay? Just sing once and then you can go. " Ann did nothing but sat still for a few heart beats before nodding in her hands. With a smile, Ash patted her back and looked to the stage, watching the next person take the stand.

"Ohhh, I remember that guy."

Jammie glanced up from the menu, "Isn't that the guy who sang with blond cutie with the accent?"

Stacy gave a glance before going back to her phone, "Might be. It was a while ago."

Ann took another deep breath, her fingers rubbing her forehead. Just one song and then she could go home and curl up in her bed. She only hoped that her name was called soon.

"Ann; look at me."

Her body went stiff as her friends mouths dropped. Jammie looked to her as Ash smacked her arm. "Did…he just say your name?"

Lowering her hands, she kept her eyes on the table, her heart racing. No, no don't do this to her.

The speakers were silent, static hissing before his song began to play. Strums of a guitar filled the room softly before the mans voice sang out.

"Stars shining bright above you.."

Ann breath stopped in her throat. No way.

"Night breezes seem to whisper, 'I love you.'."

Ash shook her again, her eyes never leaving the stage. "Girl what have you not been telling me?"

"Birds singin' in the sycamore tree."

His voice was so soft, so gentle. She closed her eyes tightly, her skin growing warm with outrage and delight. Her mind called her a fool, it wasn't you, just another girl named Ann but her heart screamed for her to turn around and prove it wrong. Turn around…TURN AROUND!

Grabbing the table top, she turned, her wide shocked eyes glancing to the man on stage and there, her lips parted in amazement as she watched House grab the microphone, his head bowed to the spot light.

"Dream a little dream of me."

He felt like a damn idiot singing this. Under the light, he swore everyone could see him blush, see him shake as he struggled to sing without cracking. When he came in, he spotted Annabelle with her friend and the sight of her made him guilty. She looked miserable, had he done that to her? Please, he knew he did.

"Say 'nighty night' and kiss me." He cupped the mic, bringing it closer to his lips. He couldn't tell her how sorry he was, he couldn't tell her he wanted to understand her life, her pain. He wasn't good with words of emotions, but singing… that was different, that he could do.

"Just hold me tight and tell me, you'll miss me."

His hands left the mic to touch his chest, causing some of the on looking females to sigh in delight at the gesture, "While I'm alone and blue as can be." Looking up, his eyes caught her own and he couldn't help but smile to her.

"Dream a little dream of me."

She sang to him when he first woke up, she hummed to him when he felt lost. Now he could sing to her and ask for forgiveness. He would show her, just how much he hurt. Throwing his arms out wide, his voice raised with more passion, more fire that women clapped and cheered.

"Stars fading but I linger on dear! Still craving your kiss. I'm longing to linger til dawn, dear. Just saying this,"

He reached out to her. She looked pretty there, sitting in her little corner of the world. Like him, she was trapped in her own nightmare of pain, of fear. When he was pinned with his guilt and fear, she brought him light and tried to help him be set free. Now, he must reach her, and bring her the ease she gave him.

"Sweet dreams til sun beams find you. Sweet dreams that leaves all worries behind you." Bringing his arm back, he couldn't help but chuckle. He never notice but she was a strange women. She was easily embarrassed and not nearly as quick witted as Wilson but she was brave. She stood her gone and gave without asking. She… She was something else. "But in your dreams, whatever they be… Dream a little dream of me."

Disconnecting the mic from the stand, he bit his cheek as he limped off stage, slowly making his way to her table, watching her friends move away, giving him enough room to stand before her all awhile his voice sang out.

"Stars fading but I linger on dear! Still craving your kiss!" He reached out and touched her cheek, she flinched but did not move away. She was to confused, honored, flattered and scared to move. What was House doing? Why was he doing this? Why for her?

"I'm longing to linger til dawn dear, Just saying this…."

He moved away then, step by painful step. Her body moved forward, to keep his fingers on her skin.

"Sweet dreams til sun beams find you.."

His fingers left her and she suddenly felt hollow. She was half tempted to reached out and snatch his hand but she only squeezed her chair, keeping herself still, silent.

"Sweet dreams that leaves all worries behind you."

Turning his back to her, he made it back up onto the stage, grabbing his cane that he left at the side of the DJ stand.

"But in your dreams, whatever they may be.."

Getting back behind the stand, he looked back out, letting his blue eyes catch her own before whispering out, his free hand touching his chest once again in a plea.

"Dream a little dream of me."

**/**

Wilson lowered his drink onto the bar in shock. "What just happened?"


	20. Chapter 19

**/**

**/**

"So, what was that about?"

Wilson watched House slip back onto his bar stool, grabbing his glass quickly. "What? It's a karaoke bar."

"I know it is." Wilson rolled his eyes, his finger tapping irrationally. "But that wasn't 'just' singing. You- you…. Serenade! To the women who threw the drink at me no less!"

"I was just repaying her."

"How can you say that. I didn't do anything to you this week."

"Its not about this week." House muttered into his glass, drinking down the rest of the burning liquor. Wilson just stared at him dumb stuck before waving his hand in rage. "I thought we were over this House." He hissed. "I'm sorry I kicked you out but I need my space, I need to keep serious with Sam without 'you' butting in."

House slammed the glass down making his friend jump and the bartender turn. Blue eyes snapped to him in a glare that Wilson couldn't help but feel himself lean back.

"You know what?" House muttered, pushing himself to stand. "This was a bad idea." Wilson opened his mouth but House snatched his cane and pulled his wallet out. "I didn't come here to listen to your bitching, your lime light. Fine, you want a happy loving life with Sam, be my guest." Taking out a ten, he slapped it down on the counter before pointing at his friends face. "I don't need this 'I can change' crap shoved in my face every freakin day. I need a break!"

"Now that's just-."

"Oh shut up!" House whined. It was weird but looking at Wilson, he didn't feel that ping of sorrow, that sudden need to be next to him. Perhaps Wilsons' last stunt was all House could take, it was his last straw to keep hope alive. After that night, House went so deep into his despair that he swore he could never come out.

And yet, he woke up and suddenly, he could see that Wilson wasn't the only person he could lean on. He wasn't the only person who he could talk to, to have understand, to not be judged. House realized that there was someone else who would take care of him, who would save me and give me back what he so deeply needed.

Wilson shook his head in shock. What was wrong with House? He never acted like this? Well maybe he did, but never with this much rage. More over, why was Wilson so upset? When he watched House sing, he was smiling, happy to finally hear his friends voice. He wouldn't admit it, he did miss House's voice in his loft, the never ending bickering, the selfish demands and the late night piano play. Yes his loft felt a little bit lonely but he could over come it but to watch his friend sing and then see him sing to some women, the very women who threw a drink in his face and embarrassed him in front of his own girlfriend and co-workers. He felt hurt. House was his best friend, he was suppose to take his side and get even! House was suppose to get back at the people who hurt him! That's what he does! What he always did! Now to see him be all 'buddy buddy' with the women who mocked him that just pissed him off.

He tried to stop him but House only pulled away. "House wait."

"I'm done waiting. I'll see you at work."

**/**

**/**

House was just sick of all this bullshit. He really was. He was sick of being pathetic, crying into his bottle of bourbon every night while listening to old blue songs, he was sick of waiting day after freaking day for Wilson to see him, to offer him a guys night, a luncheon. Pulling his leather jacket on, he limped towards the parking lot, his eyes narrowed to the street. He needed to bury this feeling and go on with his life. He took chances at this 'love' or whatever the hell people called it and he didn't get anything! Pulling out his keys, he looked up. He needed to go home.

"Hey there Piano man."

He needed a camera. He stopped a few steps from his bike, staring at the lone person straddling it.

Annabelle sat there shyly, a little smile on her lips. Her hair was pushed to her left shoulder, curls spilling over, dangling along the side of his ride. He let his eyes travel, seeing up close what she really wore. Tight blue jeans hugging her hips that seemed to be rocking side to side. Was she dancing on his bike? The idea made him smirk. A black ripped shirt hugged her torso showing cut marks down the front of her chest and sleeves, a purple tank peeking out of the gaps. She looked like she belonged at that bike, he could just picture her slipping on a jet black leather jacket, black leather chaps hugging her thighs and her face covered with thicker make-up. A bad ass chick she would be, beckoning her gloved fingers at him.

He liked that idea.

Slipping her right leg to join her left, Ann pushed herself off to her feet. "You had all the girls in there drooling." She went on, her arms going behind her back. "Thou, I am still a little confused.. Why did you sing to me?"

"Do I really have to spell it out?"

Her lips pressed, her gaze falling to the ground. "I thought.. You were mad at me."

"I am… Kind of. You attacked my friend. Why."

Her shoulders flinched but her lips pouted in a huff, her arms crossing in a stubborn gesture. "He deserved it."

"So you took it on yourself to do it?"

She bowed her head, her hands squeezing her arms tightly. "He hurt you."

Normal people, people who knew him hated him. Well a good amount hated him, the rest are just annoyed with him. If a scene fell that involved him, if he came out the victory, they would shake their heads and mutter that he some how cheated, that someone he did some kind of foul play. If he lost, then they would just turn away and agree with others that its what he deserved. At those times, he kept his chin up and glared at them, he refused to let them see that those words bothered him, that he created such an image there was no way of getting out. He had to live with it even if he didn't like it.

He could bare it thou, before. That was because of Wilson, if he got hurt, emotionally or physically, Wilson would be there to pick him up. Buy him a drink, sit with him in his living room and just watch t.v. House liked those times. They didn't speak but he was happy. House liked knowing someone was there, someone that cared for him. That didn't pity him or hate him like the others.

He took a step causing Ann to step back, her eyes flashing up to him in uneasiness. His face showed nothing, his blue eyes half closed, swirling with meaning that she could not pin point. Another step and her hip bumped into his bike. She was cornered, trapped. She grabbed the leather seat tightly, her breathing coming fast.

He only got closer, blocking her in. She trembled in fear but even more in anticipation. She couldn't read him. Raising his right hand, he hooked his cane onto the handle bare before letting his hand join back at his side. What was he doing?

Bowing her head a little, she stared at his throat. It was becoming far to hot to be this close. Her clothing felt tight and her hands felt as thou they needed to grab ahold of something to stop shaking.

But he didn't move. Just stood there in front of her, watching her. What was he waiting for? Did she need to apologize? Her eyes trailed down a little, feeling her stomach tighten. This was cruel. Being so close, she could smell him and he was wearing the cologne she gave him. It was mouth watering even thou her lips were dry. She wanted to lean over and bury her face into his throat and breath deep. She wanted to let her fingers touch him, grab him, press them together to make their small gap that suddenly felt like a football field disappear. Why did he make her feel this way? Why was she letting herself do it?

With shaking hands, she reached up, unsure what to do. She didn't met his gaze but kept staring at his collar, where his shirt peeked out from under his dress shirt. All those buttons, they should be undone. Holding her breath, her fingers touched his chest, feeling him stiffen, hearing his sudden intake of breath before feeling the pressure of his cheek pressing onto the top of her head. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head up, her nose brushing along his throat, breathing deep.

Hands grabbed her hips making her gasp. She felt weightless, unsure of how her feet suddenly were off the ground and her body was sliding along the bikes seat. A small whimper left her lips when she felt him press closer, his hips demanding, pressing her legs apart effortlessly, to settle between them. Fingers squeezed her hips making her back arch, her breasts molding into his chest, making him groan out lightly into her ear. What was he doing to her? This was wrong, he should be doing this with his best friend, not her.

But heaven help her, she could not stop. She wanted more, she wanted him close, wanted him to peel her clothing off piece by piece. She wanted him to touch her, to do wicked things to her that would leave her sore and satisfied. Tilting her head back, she kept her eyes tightly closed and offered herself to him. She couldn't deny it, she wouldn't even try. This might bite her in the ass later but right now, at that moment, nothing else mattered. All she wanted, was to feel his lips against her own, to feel whiskers of his bread against her cheek, against her. Her fingers pulled his jacket and she prayed that he was not toying with her because at that state, she didn't think she could play it off.

His hand cupped her cheek so gently she jumped, her breath coming short. His thumb grazed her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin before tracing it down to her chin. He could feel her heart racing, feel her body tremble against his own. A small smile touched his lips as his head bowed, this was a odd feeling. An old feeling that he missed. Tilting her head up a little more he sealed their lips together, feeling that spark of excitement and lust. She tasted better then her baking, she sweet, so intoxicating that he couldn't keep himself from seeking entrance, to taste her more deeply. Soft little sounds were coming from her and he could feed into them, his fingers sinking into her thick hair, holding her close, feeling her tilt her head to get a better access to his kiss, letting her own tongue explore, to shyly brush along his own in such slow agony that House could only groan.

But all good things must come to an end. At least for a time period. He broke the kiss slowly, lifting his head away. He couldn't hold back the chuckle when he watch her move with him, her pout lips trying to seek his own, her voice coming out in little pleas. His fingers removed themselves from her much to her dismay. Soft little kisses rained on her face from his lips, touching her forehead, touching her cheek, the tip of her nose. He watched her eyes open slowly, seeing those brown orbs swirl with lust, so hot and so needy that House wanted nothing more then lay her down on the ground.

"Put this on."

It took her moment to awake from her daze. She looked up at him confused, breathless. She was to damn cute for her own good. Touching her lips one last time with his own, he placed his helmet into her hands. "Put this on. We're leaving."

Sliding her back, he hurriedly placed himself on the bike, digging his keys from his pocket. He felt her move, slipping the helmet on half way before speaking. "But my car."

"We'll get it later, need to go home now."

He revved the engine to life causing her to squeal out in alarm, wrapping her arms around his waist tightly. "House! I-I don't really like motorcycles!"

"What was that?" He shouted grinning, twisting the handle to make the engine roar, the wheel skinning into the ground causing her to press closer to his back. "I couldn't hear you!"

"House, just let me grab my car."

"You ready to leave the bar? Great, lets go!"

With a kick to his kick stand, he smirked when he heard her yell out and grab tight, her fingers curling into his shirt for dear life while her head pressed between his shoulder blades.

Oh yeah, he needed to get them home. NOW.


	21. Chapter 20

**Um, yeah this is kinda rated M for this chapter, it's not much but it gives you a basically visual of what's going on. Side note, there WILL be Houson, give it time, it has to build LOL. **

**/**

**/**

House shut the door lightly, his heart racing. Why was he nervous? This wasn't the first time he bought someone home to do the deed. He was a professional in that field. With a click of the lock, he turned and looked back at his guest, his lips pressed. Thou, none of them were her. She stood behind his couch, hugging his helmet tightly, her body trembling. Was she scared? Worried? Excited?

Putting his cane aside, he limped behind her quietly, listening to her breath, to her deep sigh before circling his arms around her. She jumped, her back pressing into his chest and he squeezed tight listening to the 'clunk' from where the helmet slipped from her fingers.

He held her. He could feel her beating heart running wild in her chest. He smiled to himself a little when he noticed she stopped breathing, her fingers stiff and still in the air, unsure as to where to put them. Bowing his head, he pressed his lips to her shoulder, his nose pushing her hair back to let him get to her skin. She smelt so warm, so feminine. His fingers spread wide, one brushing along her stomach while the other held onto her hip. Her lips trembled in a whimper when his lips touched just under her ear. Goosebumps formed and her body went on high alert. dipping her head, her hands fell upon his own, fingers lacing fingers. She held tightly, reminding herself that this was no dream. Grounding her to the idea that his lips were touching her skin, his body was pressing, letting her feel every pulse, every muscle that twitched.

Turning in his arms, she looked up to him with her unsure eyes. He tilted his head back, no really knowing what he should say. He knew, if they did this, there was going to be that awkwardness after words. What could he say her? Do? Tell her it was all in the heat of the moment? Tell her that he had to have her because for some reason she was the only person that didn't make him feel alone? Would she ask him for a relationship? Could he take that step? Takes that risk?

A soft brush along his jaw made him snap out of his thoughts. She was smiling up at him, her fingers cupping his jaw, her fingers itching his scruffy beard.

"..Are.. You petting me?"

Her cheeks went a little pink before giggling out. "Have I told you before.. I like facial hair?"

"You planning on growing one?"

"Don't be gross." She muttered, pushing to the tips of her toes, she pressed her cheek into his own, purring out lightly. "I don't know why… But feeling it against me, a mans beard, it's just so…."

"Macho? Butch? Kinky?"

"Manly." She whispered before brushing her lips across his lightly. "My friends complain a lot of them, the burns, the little red marks on their face or… _other_… areas. I kind of enjoy it. Its like, I don't know, I'm being marked." She took a step back, pulling him with her. Pressing her hip into his couch, keeping her steady when his head dipped down, latching onto her throat, his hands pushing up her shirt from her hips.

"To feel that sweet burn on me while I'm working." She whispered, her arms wrapped around his neck, her back arching when his teeth nipped her. "Making you think of me." He growled, his hands seeking, pulling her tank completely off, letting his eyes settle and groan at the sight of her naked chest. His mouth watered, his hand snatching her wrists to keep her from covering herself.

"H-House… I have to ask you. Before we do anything."

"The answers yes." He growled before yanking her, making her squeal as he limped towards his room.

"W-wait, I haven't even said-"

"Don't care, I'll do it now get in here!"

**/**

**/**

Rapid breathing filled his ears as he struggled to keep his control. Pressing his left foot into the mattress, he lifted up a little more, smirking to himself greedily at the sharp in take she gave. Damn, seeing her nude body, smooth and hairless, it only made her own thick hair crazy. She looked like a goddess in some kind of forest, toying with him. He managed to rip the hair tie from her during their foreplay, letting him see it fully down, wild. It rained around her in curls, tracing her sweet flesh. She didn't have any tan marks and that made him groan in delight, his fingers tracing. Did she sun bath in the nude? If he pulled her close and tasted her flesh, he swore he could picture himself at the beach, the salty waves sprinkling his face in the breeze.

With a grunt, he tossed his head back, his right hand holding her hips tightly as they rode him, her fingers curling, scratching his stomach but he didn't give a damn. It felt good. Soft little noises left her lips as her head tilted down, letting her bangs cover her sweat covered forehead. She looked beautiful. He took his time undressing her, touching every piece of flesh he could find but when he tried to get her to roll over, to trace the back of her legs, she shoved him onto his own and rolled on top and began to return the favor. Smothering him in kisses that made his mind go blank, her fingers snatching at his clothing, ripping them away with such need that he forgot what he was doing and helped her.

"A-Ah!" She moaned out weakly, her eyes tightly shut to the pleasure, to the heat. She felt so good, so hot, so wet. Reaching up, his hand cupped her throat making her jerk and grind into him, making his stomach muscle clench and his teeth clinch. "That's it." He whispered, his thumb brushing her jugular making her shiver, her hands reaching back to press into the mattress, leaning her body to better angel herself, pushing him deeper, bringing him closer to her soul that she wouldn't be able to hide, to hold back.

"Feel good." He groaned, his free hand reaching up to trail down her chest, his fingers skimming across her breasts making her shutter, "O-oh, nah!" Right now, nothing matter and he liked that. He didn't have any fears, no sorrows. Just pleasure, wet hot bliss that swam in his veins, in his muscles and he wanted it to go on. He wanted to stay like this. Nothing else mattered, nothing else could touch him. Here, the darkness of his dreams could not trap him. Pushing himself up slowly, his thigh protested to the sudden shift that he shoved it aside, he needed to do this. Sitting up fully, he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled Ann to him, wrapping her up in his arms, pressing his face into her chest, breathing in her scent, in her sweat. Her arms snapped around his neck, her nails biting his back and he welcomed it. He wasn't alone, he wasn't empty. He was okay.

"Be.. Close to me." He whispered to himself, his fingers squeezing tight. "Annabelle…"

She flinched and bowed her head, burying her face into his throat crying out.

"Greg!"

**/**

**/**

"…How did you get it?"

House rested his head on his arm, watching Ann try to brush her tangled hair with her fingers. On his side, his body drained and happily wilted from pleasure he laid, his eyes settling on her. Beside him, the covered pulled to her waist, hair pulled forward to covered herself he really didn't see the point in doing so since he basically had his way but he kept his mouth shut. He was enjoying the afterglow and her company when he noticed her shoulder. That jagged scar running from her shoulder down to the end of the blade. In the lamp lightly, he could see the fine difference, the white flesh against her tan. He saw it before in the dance studio and his mind tried to wrap around what had happened. He went to the hospital and spent a good solid day trying to pick up her medical records. There had to be something.

All he got was the basic rule book info. She was in an accident receiving a broken left arm, almost severed. A couple of cuts and bruises, broken ankel and three bruised ribs, two broken on the left. Normally he would just toss it, make his own story of what happened and let it rest but this was Annabelle. For some reason, he wanted more, details. He hated people telling him their life story but he wanted to hear hers.

Maybe its because she did the same for him, listened to him bitch about Wilson, about his life, about the collapsed building. He figured he could repay her. Maybe it was the deep need to connect with someone else who had a scar, who knew the pain he walked with. To know someone else out there understood and could relate. He remembered her plea from their fight, her broken voice whispering to him, begging him to let her help him just so he could help her. What did she need from him? Did she need someone to lean on? Someone to help her with her own pain?

People would say he was the wrong person for it… He wanted to prove them wrong.

She touched her shoulder gently, her fingers tracing along the dinted flesh. She hissed and grabbed tightly, this made House swear and grab her arm. She tried to pull away but he pulled her down, yanking her to him. She wiggled and protested, trying to fight against his hold, to curl in on herself. Her legs shifted and almost smacked his thigh and for that he cursed out loud. Rolling her to face him, he hugged her close and held tight. He rode out the pain with her, letting her sob into his chest, letting her fingers bit into his shoulders as she fought the pulses. He had been there, he always been there. When the pain in his thigh becomes to much to bear, he wanted nothing more then to make it stop, to scream and cry and beat it away but on certain days, he wished there was someone else there, even if he yelled at them to go away, told them to get out that they would never understand, deep down he wanted someone who could hold him while his body rocked itself in pain, someone to whisper soothing words into his ears, reassuring him that this would pass and that he would be okay.

"Deep breaths." He whispered to her, "You'll be okay…"

**/**

**/**

He didn't know how long he held her, how long he stroked her back and whispered to her. All he knew was that he was shocked. He never done anything like this before, never saw the point. He mocked, laughing at others pain and walking away when they asked for his help. Everyone needed to help themselves that's how he learned and yet, he couldn't be himself.

When did he change so much?

Her sniffles died down and soft little pants brushed his chest telling him the wave was over. Pressing his cheek into his pillow, he let out a deep sigh, letting his grip loosen around her. She'll tell him tomorrow, he wanted to know and he wasn't planning on letting it go due to an attack. Figuring she would just pass out, he closed his eyes and let his body relax.

"I was driving.."

Her hand touched his chest, her fingers brushing through the hairs. He stayed silent, wanting her to continue, his fingers giving her hip a soft squeeze.

"It's been five years but I can still smell it. The smoke, the gas. I was driving to rehearsals and my friend Joan was with me." He felt her stiffen, her forehead pressing into his collar. He only held her tight, resting his chin upon her head. "We were behind a Uhauls at a stop light, just talking. Joan just nailed the lead in this Broadway performance and I was her understudy. She was really gifted House.. I wished you could have seen her." Her shoulders trembled making him frown. "Behind us, a construction truck was coming. I don't know what happened but he didn't stop in time and he slammed into us. Pinned us under the van."

Her body began to tremble, her fingers curling into his arm, he could feel her crying but still, he said nothing. He didn't want to break her processes, she needed to tell him on her own.

"I-I don't know why but everything went wrong! The metal chains that were holding the steel beams in place on the truck broke. It was like a bad dream, they fell on my car, one got through my roof and hit me." Her shoulder flinched and he gave a nod. So a steel beam pinned her, that would explain the upside down Y mark. "I was pinned into my airbag. It hurt so bad, I tried to look around but all I could see was smoke. I heard people yelling. I said my friends name, trying to see her."

She stopped talking then, her face buried. Her body was wrecked with sobs. Reaching up, his fingers brushed her bangs back, his lips touching her forehead, like him, she needed to tell someone. His money would be down that she hadn't told anyone this in a long time, most likely years. She hide her scar from everything in order to prevent people from asking. She held it in so long it was now becoming unbearable. She needed to open up. She needed to tell him.

"What happened."

"Her seat belt broke." She coughed, her eyes tightly shut. "The seat belt broke on impact! She struck the dash board so hard, the air bag was jammed because of the moving van so it didn't stop her. I-I called her name but my roof was caved in, I couldn't really see her. I tried and tried but there was so much smoke. I didn't find out until after I got to the hospital that my friend a major head injury putting her in a non responsive state." She went quiet again and House didn't have to ask. Taking in the time it would take to get someone out of a caved in car plus the force of the injury… There was likely a skull fracture leading towards a brain injury. He wasn't there on hand but his gut was telling him Joan came in with an hemorrhage and he could believe, it was a bad one.

"She didn't make it." She hiccuped. "I almost lost my arm but she had her life taken. S-She was suppose to perform! She'd been training for weeks, it was suppose to be her opening! She was suppose to go to Paris, she was suppose to be a star!"

She broke down for the fifth time that night but instead of being pissed, instead of wanting to push her onto someone else and go on with his business. He simply held her close and let her cry it out. There was nothing he could say that could ease her, he wasn't going to bullshit her and tell her it was going to be okay. Because it wasn't, her friend was still dead and she walked with a scar that was going to remind her of it but if he just held her and let her body know he was there. Maybe House could be her support, he never really been one for someone so it was something he was new to, something he hasn't really experience but he was willing to do it for her.

For the first time in a long time, he was willing to try.

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	22. Chapter 21

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House flinched and smacked his dry lips as his body began to wake. Deeper into his pillow, he snuggled and rolled, throwing his arm out to grab the heat beside him, to pulled the sweet scent to his chest and feel the soft fine hairs tickle his chin and lips. He didn't want to wake up, not yet anyway.

His hand met empty sheets and that made his eyes open. Vision blurred, he glanced up to his alarm clocks noticing it was still early. It was a Saturday so that meant he could sleep in and yet seeing this empty space beside him, he suddenly couldn't. Bowing into his pillow, he let out a groan. Pushing himself up to lay on his side. He took a look around his empty room.

So Ann left. He began to rub his palm against his face, wiping the sleep from his eyes. This was normal. Waking up alone; that was always normal. Even when he was with Stacy, sometimes she would have to go to work earlier and when he rolled over, she would be long gone, her side of the bed cold and empty.

A deep breath and his body fell back, resting his head. How much longer would it take? When would he finally be able to wake up knowing someone was there? His chest tighten at that all to familiar feeling, the longing. This was why he hated living back in his old apartment. Back at the loft, he never woke alone. Sure, when he opened his eyes, there was no one beside him but when he sat up he could hear the noises. His Wilson. Taking a shower, cooking, cleaning. Sometimes he could hear Wilson talking on his phone. Making notes about a patient. In the loft, he never felt alone…

Flinging his arms out, he stared at the ceiling. He was off today, he should do something. Sleep some more? No, he was too awake. His body twitched restlessly, wanting to do something and yet do nothing at all. His thigh throbbed lightly making him reach for his medicine that he kept close by. Dry swallowing three, he began to get up. Might as well get something to eat, no point sulking. He managed to pull the covers away when he heard a creak of a door. He went still, his ears listening. He could hear it, someone opening a door. The front door? The floor board squeaked from slow movements, someone was sneaking down the hallway and by the lack of noises, they were steady on their movements. So that begged the question was someone trying to rob him?

No, he locked the door last night. It opened up to easily without a fight which meant someone must of unlocked the door to get out and kept it unlocked to.. Get back in.

Going boneless, he fell back onto the bed, his eyes closing. As a last minute judgment call, he let his right slip off the side of his bed. If he was wrong, at least he could get a good punch in if it turned out to be a burglar.

He stopped breathing when his bedroom door opened, hearing soft little pants from the stranger. He wanted to peek to see who it was but he didn't want them to know he was awake. So limp he stayed, breathing slowly in and out. He felt them move closer, fabrics rubbing before hearing something soft hit the ground. He turned his head to it, sighing out. The foot steps moved away and that made his brows narrow. He should just open his eyes and get it over with. The action slipped when he felt the bed dip, slow movements inching closer until heat was right next to him. Gently, he felt pressure on his shoulder and his eyes opened to glance to find a bundle of brown hair greeting him.

Lifting up his arm, he pulled Ann closer to his side, letting her snuggle into his chest. "Where did you go?" He muttered into her hair, his fingers tracing along her shoulder, feeling the deep indents of her scar. She wrapped her arm around his chest and hugged him, shivering from his touch. "My friend brought my car around this morning.. I had to grab the keys from her."

"You left your car at the bar? Are you an alcoholic?"

"Well, I did sleep with you so it's a possibility."

"Bitch."

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Mondays were always a busy day.

Wilson flipped the page in his notes, his pen marking passages that struck him in interest. Reaching out, he picked up his veggie sub from his plate, his eyes trying to focus on the words. What would he give to have a free moment today? It was like the second he walked into the hospital, his name had been shouted from one place to another. Two of his cases had seemed to gotten worse over night and one was in critical shape. He had seen these signs over and over again, she would not last threw the night. Brushing his bangs back, a deep sigh left his chest as his body began to ache for him to take a breather. He should of left to go eat, some place nice outside where he could forget for an hour what his job was, how confusing his life was and just day dream.

But no, here he was, Mr. Worry wort, sir work-a-lot, needing to get his notes done before his next budget meeting next week, eating his lunch in his office. It wasn't really all that bad, he didn't have any appointments for another two hours and his clinic hours didn't start until three so he could just sit back and enjoy his meal.

The door slammed open the second he chomped down on his sub, his body jerking in fright causing some of the lettuces and peppers to fall onto the floor. Whipping his head around, he looked at the intruder stand firm in his door way.

"I'm dating Annabelle."

House counted to five in his head before turning on his feet and slamming Wilson's door shut, a grin on his face. The sheer surprise, outrage and disbelief on his friends face was priceless. Almost as much as Annabelle reaction this morning.

They had spent all weekend trapped in his apartment. Saturday they laid in bed and just talked. He never done something like that so for the first half he just listened, tracing his fingers along her body. She told him about her rehab with her arm and leg, told him about her friend whom died and how she got into baking. She cuddled close to him, her fingers teasing his chest hair before she whispered a sentence that stopped his heart cold.

'How did you met Wilson?'

He kept his mouth shut, his fingers pausing in their movements. He didn't want to think about Wilson, he didn't want to talk about him but his heart must of gotten control of his vocal controls because soon he started telling her the story. The convention, the bar fight. The jail cell. They spilled out of him like a shattering dame and yet, strangely, he felt…better. Resting her chin on his chest, she watched him talk, like a child caught up in a book of fairytales. She didn't give him any signs of being uncomfortable when he spoke about Wilson, about his scent, his eyes. With every fact he told her, with every story he remembered, that he treasured. He felt better, more at ease. Maybe it was because she didn't get upset or tense when he told her about the day he fell in love with him. She just smiled and agreed with him, laughed at all the things she thought was funny and pressed her lips to his fingers when he stroked her cheek, lost in his thoughts.

It was like, even thou he loved Wilson she wasn't bothered by it. She accepted it and didn't make suggestions of how to forget him, didn't try to change the subjects. She even offered little helpful notes that might of worked better to his angel. It was nice having someone he could confess feelings that he held deep down for so long and know he wasn't going to be judge, wasn't going to be mocked or looked at as pathetic.

After that, the weekend went by like a breeze. He played the piano for her when they settled into his living room, she even got up to dance, to show him some of her moves. Her steps and grace was breath taking and when her hair was down, all wild and free, he couldn't help the animalistic growl that left his throat. Once the song was done, he would get up and limp over to her panting side and tackle her down onto the couch. He spent hours there tracing every inch of her body with his fingers, with his lips, with his tongue. He got to hear sounds leave her lips far sweeter then any music that fell from any piano, any violin.

On Sunday, House talked her into having 'nude day.' It took a while but he got the joy of watching Ann walk around his apartment, either cooking or just browsing along his books, striped of her clothing, letting his eyes see every inch of her flesh. He felt connected to her, far deeper then anyone else he came across. He wouldn't put it past the fact she suffered a scar just like him. Every time she tried to hide her shoulder from him, he would walk by and take her hand off. He would brush her hair away and let it show. He had sat behind her on the couch one time during the weekend and just held her, his lips touching her ruined shoulder, feeling her tremble and sniffle. He didn't have to say anything to her, he wasn't going to tell her that she looked beautiful even with it.

Finally, when she stopped hiding herself from him, she turned the tables and without asking, without giving him warning. She took his pants and removed them. They were so much alike in that department for the first reaction he did was grab his briefs and keep them in place. He didn't mind being naked in front of people, he was proud of his tone and his 'little Greg' but to be fully open, to let her see his scar. It was like ripping his very wall he worked on building, baring something so tender, so ugly. She looked into his eyes and he stared back. She asked him with her smile, her fingers squeezing his own lightly. Together. They could walk through this pain together. As his mangled flesh came to view, he couldn't help the sad smile from covering his lips, remembering her words.

_'Let me help you.. So you can help me..'_

Monday morning came by to fast.

He had sat on his bed watching her get dress. She had to return to her café, duty calls or something like that. She hummed and talked to him idly, telling him after her upcoming events she would have to bake for and the plans she had for them. He didn't care but he liked hearing her voice, reminding him he wasn't alone.

One thing that struck him as odd was the fact she didn't ask about their relationship. He knew if this happened with Wilson, he would have spent the whole weekend listen to his friend bitch and complain and demanding to know what it meant. Are they a couple? Fuck buddies? Was it a mistake? A fling? What was Ann thinking he wondered. Did she think this was a fling? Was it a pity fuck on his behalf? His gut turned bitter at the idea.

She came over and was about to say her good byes when he cut her off. Standing up straight, he grabbed her face gently with both of his hands and kissed her, brushing his lips tenderly with her own. She was still for a moment, shocked at the sudden gentle affection thou it didn't stop her fingers from curling into his wrists, giving a squeeze.

Once their lips parted, she looked up to him dazed and breathless, her cheeks warm and red. He brushed his thumb along them before whispering out.

"Date me."

It wasn't a question but a statement. He didn't know why but he was willing to take this step. Not once since she had been close to him had he dreamed those nightmares. He had yet to find himself crushed under the building of his despair, waiting for someone to walk by and offer a hand. He didn't want those dreams to come back. He didn't want to see that dead woman face; didn't want no more yelling of his name as the life left her wide eyes.

The look on Ann's face made House unsure. She looked blanked, her face giving nothing away. She didn't look upset or excited. Flattered or insulted. She just looked… shocked. So he waited, his fingers stroking her warm cheeks of her face, trying to coax the answer from her parted lips.

"…Please." He muttered, bowing his head again, his lips touched the tip of her nose. Her fingers flexed a little on his own before her head tilted up, letting her own lips touch his chin, nuzzling into his beard. When she gave her answer, the tone of her voice spoke more then her words. Tucking her under his chin, he grinned to himself. He didn't want her to see how happy she made him, he didn't want to risk her seeing the relief, his eyes turn red at the sudden joy of finally getting someone he wanted. Squeezing her tight, he asked her again, wanting her to repeat her statement over and over and over again.

Just one more time.

"I'd really like that Greg."


	23. Chapter 22

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Wilson hated every moment he watched.

Two months had past and Wilson broke a total of twenty-six pens. His hand was dyed black and red for days, even Sam started to complain about the messes that were made on his coat sleeves. He was running out of excuses, it came to the point where when he was asked, he just ignored it. How could he tell his girlfriend that he broke his pens in a split second of pure white jealousy. How?

The first time it happened, his hand throbbed for two days. He was writing down on a chart in the clinic's. The day was steady and yet the nurses were whispering and muttering around him. Glancing up, he noticed some were sending sly glances to the side, fingers pointing behind each other. Something had gotten their attention. Curious, Wilson walked over to peek just to see what the big deal was.

Out in the main lobby, House stood tugging the strap of his backpack onto his shoulder. What caught everyones attention thou was the fact he was smiling. No one ever saw him come into work with a smile, not a smirk, not a coy grin, this was a 'smile'. A real, warm smile. The reason was beside him and that's when Wilson felt something pop in his grip. Ann was standing behind him, her hand touching his forearm lightly. What was she doing there? Behind the glass, Wilson could not hear but he could watch and what he saw made his heart give a painful twist. House was touching her. They were small gestures, no one would really noticed unless you were looking hard. Wilson known House for years, he saw things no one else saw.

He saw House's hand slip out of his pants pocket just to brush Ann's hip when he reached up to his straps. He noticed how cleaner House looked, he wore the same attire, his face still covered in patches of hair but Wilson knew. His shirt was ironed, his hair was growing back a little from the buzz cut and it was actually taken care of. House was changing, little by little. He was changing.

Wilson felt betrayed.

After that, Wilson began to hate Annabelle. He didn't know her, it was rude to judge someone off the bat but Wilson couldn't keep himself smiling when she showed up. One nights when House had a tough case, Wilson would stayed after hours, watching House in his office from the balcony. His best friend would be lost in thought, bouncing his stress ball against the wall to clean his head, to put the puzzles together. Wilson pressed his lips and began to push himself up to make his way over, to knock on the door and join his friend, get his mind off the stress.

But it was almost every time Wilson found the chance to get his moment, Ann would pop out of no where. He watched, his lips snarling as House stopped tossing his ball and turn in his chair to glance to the front. Wilson had to crane his neck to see who it was and when Annabelle appeared, he felt sick.

She was changing his House. Every time Wilson was with him, eating together, walking together. Wilson felt like there was something missing. He could never put his finger on it. They were more silent now, House didn't pull as much pranks on him anymore and Wilson was starting to miss coming into his office to find his ties ruined. Small talk, that's all they did. If they came across each other, House would acknowledge him with a nod while Wilson gave a small wave. He would ask how he was and House would just shrug. It was almost like House didn't want to talk to him anymore. They had been close once, what had happened? Wilson just didn't understand.

Wilson would ask how he was with Ann, trying to ignore that small voice in his brain that pleaded for House to say he grew bored of her and moved on. House would press his lips, twirling his cane and state a sentence that would leave Wilson dumbfounded and confused. The one that was the best was when House was exiting the elevator saying,

'Apparently, I'm a hit with kids.'

Wilson not expecting that comment that he was left standing there, losing his friend when the door closed.

That statement made him follow, what was House doing that involved kids? His friend hated people, always calling them liars, boring and kids were no exception. So Wilson buried his pride and asked Lucas to help him find out what House had been doing. If he asked his friend out flat he would just be lied too. When was House willing to share anything with anyone? House liked to mind fuck with people who gave him the opportunity. Lucas was busy with his upcoming wedding with Cuddy, trying to get everything set and help out since Cuddy was loosing her mind with work that the processes would take a couple of day.

What Wilson got as a result made him so angry, so hurt that he took a deep breath and let out a yell, pushing his newly clean dishes that he had spent twenty minutes cleaning onto the floor. Photos laid on the counter, spread out for his eyes. All of them of House. Each photo showed House in a studio, a ballet studio. Apparently every other Tuesday House would go there to visit Annabelle at her job and watch her teach a class. In the photos, House would sit in the far corner, away from everyone, messing with his cane.

In these photos, Wilson could piece together what happened. Annabelle must of told the kids, who couldn't any more then five or six to pick partner to do a dance. One little girl separated herself from the group to walk over to House. There was one photo that twisted Wilson gut, it was adorable and innocent and he couldn't help wanting to rip it to pieces. The photo showed House's small smile as the little red head child held her hands out to him, shyly asking with her fingers. A rare moment to see House be a normal human being and Wilson wasn't there.

Annabelle was taking his best friend from him.

Wilson decided to put his foot down. He wanted his relationship back with House, to fix that broken limb that caused them to act so differently. So with a quick gesture, Wilson asked to come over for a monster truck marathon showing. He looked it up and planned to go over to House's place and try to fix their problem.

That and he wouldn't mind spending time with his friend again.

Upon showing, Wilson walked in to find Annabelle holding a tray of snacks, her face giving him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She didn't welcome him but just stared, her coy smile teasing him. He wanted to knock the tray of food from her hands but House walked in ruining that plan. House greeted Wilson and snatched the tray from Annabelle's fingers to set in his lap once he sat down. Wilson put on his best gentlemen present and asked if she was going to join them. Wiping her hands, she removed her apron glaring. She declined saying she had a birthday the next day in which a cake needed her attention.

Wilson's face went red with outrage when she side stepped to the couch, her eyes never leaving Wilson's own as she muttered a good night to House. His friend just muttered a respond through a mouth full of food and kissed the air when she touched his cheek with her own lips. To focus on the T.V. House did not see Annabelle walk past Wilson, chuckling up at him. She was rubbing their relationship in his face. Why was she doing that? He did nothing to her and she acted like this. It was like she was trying to get him jealous.

And it was working. Wilson WAS jealous. That was HIS best friend! Wilson was suppose to be the person House went too, someone House leaned on. Wilson was suppose to spend endless nights on his couch watching T.V. He was suppose to be sitting in House's office late at night when he struggled with a case, he was suppose to take care of him when he tried to run off and do something stupid! Him! HIM!

"What time will you be here tonight?"

Wilson snapped out of his thought to turn to Cuddy, a weak smile on his face. His boss stood there with a raised brow, her arms crossed across her chest. "Sorry, kind of dozed there."

"I noticed." She mused before brushing a lock of her black hair back over her shoulder. "You will show up early right? I need everything to be perfect tonight."

Wilson gave a slow sigh before nodding. Tonight was the hospitals poker night, playing with others doctors, from donators collecting money for hospital. Cuddy put a twist to this year strangely, along side with the poker she requested an open area in order for guests to dance. He told Sam about the benefit a couple days ago and she was delighted with the idea of dancing. She was never really into poker and wasting money that could be used for another week of food or supplies. When Wilson left here and went home, Sam would be decked out in her skin tight dress, ready to knock any girls socks off and make every guy stare.

Normally Wilson liked that, he liked having beautiful women on his arm that dressed to kill. Loved the pride he felt when guys looked at her knowing she slept with him. It did his ego good but now, when he thought of the dress she picked out, it seemed just… desperate.

"Tell House he's coming too."

Wilson frowned as Cuddy began to walk away. "He said he wouldn't? He likes poker."

"That's not what Taub told me. Tell him he needs to show up or I'm adding on six more hours of clinic duty for him."

"Hitting him where it hurts huh?"

"Some of the donors are thinking about giving to House's department. It be nice for him to be there to make an impression."

"It won't be a good one, last time that happened he poured the punch bowl on top of one of your biggest donors. Just for saying House was wrong."

"I know but that's why I got you. Keep him on a tight leash Wilson! I'm trusting you to make everything manageable tonight!"

Wilson pressed his lips a little as Cuddy disappeared from his sight. He wondered why House choice to skip out, normally House loved to take money from everyone around him and parade it. Did this have something to do with Annabelle? He snarled a little, of course it did. It always had something to do with her.

Wilson was heading back towards to his office, his eyes glancing past his friends office to see if he could catch a glimpse of his cane wielding friend. His feet stopped when he noticed another lone person in the glass room making his gut tighten. He told himself to push on but his heart took control of his actions and he found himself walking over, pushing the door open.

"I see you're here again Ann."

She looked up to him blinking, her fingers tracing along the large stress ball in her hands. She sat behind House's desk, her eyes wide at being caught. Her hair was pulled back into a thick ponytail that was braided all the way down. How does she manage that mess he wondered.

"Oh come now." She pouted, "This is my first time in here in a week. You had plenty of time to have him by yourself."

"House likes his personal space. He'll get mad if you keep forcing yourself on him."

"Strange, he didn't say anything about it last night."

His face felt hot with jealousy at the little giggle that left her painted lips.

"Why?" He asked lightly. This caught her off guard cause she stopped laughing and just stared at him. "Why are you doing this?"

They looked at each other in silence. His face was twisted into a knot of unknown sadness and rage. He wanted to cry but he kept himself held back. He was trying to keep himself together, he was trying to accept their relationship but when she talked like that, when she rubbed in his face the tenderness Wilson once knew. It hurt.

She looked away, her eyes showing a touch of guilt. Pushing herself to stand, when she looked back, her eyes were narrowed. "Because you deserve this."

His lips parted in shocked, "W-Why? I didn't do anything!"

"Lying to yourself is not healthy." She muttered, but before she could go on, House entered behind Wilson, his face covered in confusion.

"What are you two doing here?"

Wilson turned, his cheeks feeling warm when he noticed how close he was to House. He had to tilt his head back a little to stare up at him, watching his confused face search both theirs. Wilson never noticed before, but his friends eyes were very clear. Like a clean crystal pool or water that he suddenly wanted to dive in.

"Wilson says there is an event tonight." Annabelle changed the subject quickly, her hands pressed on her hips.

"Don't care." House muttered, side stepping Wilson. He approached Ann with a glare, his free hand lifting to poke her in the shoulder. "What are you doing in my office?"

"I've come to do number five on your list."

House brows perked up, "Seriously? Now? I don't think Wilson would like to watch.. Unless that's his thing. Is it?" Wilson started to babble suddenly, his face turning red. Ann on the other hand just slapped House's arm lightly before picking up a bag from the floor, holding it out. "You remember those pancakes you talked about?. We made them at work and I thought you might like some as a snack."

"Th-That's mine!"

Both heads turned towards the outburst. Wilson quickly shut his mouth before giving a weak smile. "I-I mean… If their the ones I'm thinking of, I make those for House sometimes."

"So you're a baker?' Ann hinted a smirk towards him while House took the bag. "Perhaps you should show me some of your...skills.."

This was embarrassing. Wilson was sounding like a jealous wife! Why should he be offended that House was eating someone's else's pancakes even thou he stated Wilsons were the best.

"A-Anyway. House, your going to the benefit tonight."

"No I'm not." House stated, pulling the box open to peel a chuck out and shove it into his mouth.

"House you're going."

"I'll go for two hundred."

"You going to make me bribe you to go?"

"Hey, you're the one that says I need to go. Lets make it two fifty."

"House! I am not payin-"

"One fifty."

Wilson looked to Ann as she slipped the strap of her purse onto her shoulder. House whistled out a little. "Two hundred."

"One…fifty." She repeated slowly making her way over to Wilson's side. Wilson watched the small battle, House's cheeks puffing with air while Ann stared at him quietly.

"One seventy and you have to wear those white ballet shoes." Ann's eyes snapped wide as her voice squeaked in panic. "B-But I just got those! I can't wear those all night." House only smirked, limping over to her, Wilson was all but forgotten. "So? They're going to be used anyway." Ann frowned a little before glancing over to Wilson, "Will there be music tonight?"

Wilson pressed his lips, not really wanting to answer but he nodded, his arms crossing over his shoulder. She sighed deeply, glaring up at House. "One sixty and you have to give me one dance."

"And the shoes?"

"I'll wear the shoes…"

The room fell back into silence as an agreement finally took place. Wilson wanted to say something but he didn't. He couldn't. House was the first to say something and Wilson was force to watch. House lifted his cane, letting the handle tip Ann chin up to his whisper. "Just so you know, I would have gone for one fifty."

Her lips gave a small smile, "I would have paid the two hundred." House gave a chuckle before leaning down, pressing his lips lightly against her forehead. Taking his cane away, he brushed the back of his knuckles along her cheek before tapping her hip, "Alright, go away now." She laughed out before waving, turning to leave.

Wilson twisted his fingers into his sleeve once House turned to look at him. "Anything else you need?' He asked, limping to his chair. Wilson shock his head.

"Great. You can leave too then."

"House… What changed?"

They looked at one another, questions filling Wilson's mind. Why? Why did they act like they didn't spend living with one another. They had been through so much and yet they acted like they never had lunch together. Wilson needed to know what had he done? What did he say that made House retreat from him and seek out Annabelle. House looked away from Wilson's pained eyes, his face twisted in emotions Wilson wouldn't pin point. He looked hurt, guilty. His eyes looked sad and that made Wilson suddenly want to walk over and hug him, to hold him close and rake his finger into his hair.

"What did I do?"

"You stood me up."


	24. Chapter 23

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Wilson stood in front of his loft's door. His face twisted in disbelief and outrage. He had his keys in his hands, ready to unlock it, to walk in and greet Sam. She would be dressed in her evening attire, her hair done, her makeup finished. He could walk in, dress himself in his tux and tuck her under his arm and leave for his work, to piss the night away but tonight he couldn't.

His fingers squeezed his keys as he struggled with the newly found information that flooded his mind. He could still see it, the hurt on House's face, the sadness in his eyes. Wilson asked him what had changed, why did they act so differently. He did not understand and refused to leave House alone until he explained. What he found out made his heart stop.

House had told him that he stood him up. Wilson didn't remember a night where he didn't call to tell him he was running late or had to cancel. Wilson always made sure House knew, he didn't like the idea of leaving his friend alone waiting. He demanded to know when did he stand him up or why it affected House so much that he changed.

House muttered something as he rose, trying to leave but Wilson stood his ground. He wanted that feeling back, that friendship. He wanted them to be a duo again, to mess, to talk, to be like they were before. 'Tell me.' He pleaded, his brown eyes wide with depression. House took one look into them and his face crumbled into a snarl. Wilson tried not to move when House lifted his hand, his fingers flexing towards his face. Wilson suddenly wanted House's hands on him, to touch him. He wanted to bury his face into his chest and breath him in deep. He stood still and waited, hoping for a fleeing second before House suddenly withdrew his hand, leaving him to feel cold and embarrassed.

_'It was months ago.'_ House muttered, pushing past him to leave. _'It was just karaoke.'_

Wilson spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what House was talking about. It finally all came together when his phone rang. Lifting it to his ear, he muttered his name and Sam's voice filled his ears. It all came to him then as Sam reminded him of an errand to run. House said it was a few months ago and Wilson only went to the karaoke bar once with his friend. It would have been twice but the first time had to get canceled due to a sudden dinner party. It didn't make any sense thou, Wilson fully remembering Sam telling him she canceled it for him. She said so herself.

Sam's voice disappeared from his cell letting him hang up, doubt weighing on him. But what if she didn't? What if she simply just told him she did just so he would go to the party? That made no sense. He would have gone, did Sam truly believe he would bail on her just to see House? It had happened before but he was trying to be a different person. Why would Sam do such a thing? Did… she lie to him?

So there he was, afraid of going into his own lost. With a deep breath, Wilson slipped the key into the lock. When it got down to it he needed to know. Pushing the door open, he walked in and glanced around. The lights were on and he could smell a faint scent of hairspray in the air. Sam must of finished getting ready. Placing his briefcase down, he walked deeper inside, searching.

Sam walked out from their shared bedroom, her body snug in her gown. Her blond hair was loose with curls, a deep forest green off the shoulder satin dress matching so perfectly with her pale skin. She looked beautiful.

"There you are." She smiled, her painted lips so kissable. "Did you pick up shampoo? I used the last bit."

"Oh…No. Must of forgotten." He watched her carefully and saw the split second of annoyance in her eyes. She sighed a little turning away, putting the last of her items into her small purse. "That's okay, 'I' can pick it up tomorrow before work. Now go get ready."

"Right." He made his way to his bedroom, his fingers starting to remove his tie and coat. His eyes cast around and suddenly, he felt invaded. His room was cluttered and filled with items that were not his own. His dresser was covered in jewels and creams that Sam covered herself in. Walking to his closet, he frowned at the sudden lack of space. It was filled up to the max, Sam's clothing was everywhere, taking up every nook and cranny she could find. Why did this suddenly bother him now? Why was seeing his stuff replaced with hers, to see his home suddenly begin to warp into another making him feel uncomfortable.

His mind ran with demands, with questions. He needed to ask her, he needed to know the truth. Wilson was so lost in thought, he didn't notice Sam walked up behind him. Her hands touched his back lightly sending shivers down his spine as she reached up to his shoulders. "James, are you alright?" He shock his head a little, his hands falling to his side. "Sam… I need to ask you something."

"We're going to be late if you don't hurry up." A small kiss to the back of his neck, she let him go with a soft pat to his shoulder. "Now get dress, you can ask me later."

Wilson looked up then, glancing over his shoulder to watch her retreat away. "Yeah… later."

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Annabelle's eyes could not help but wander, a smile on her lips. Stepping into the lobby of the hospital, she couldn't put together how it was done. It didn't look like the center no more, it looked like a casino room. It was like she stepped right into Las Vegas and she was ready to hit the town and lose all of her life saving. Flickering lights shined above them as voices mingled together. Booths of black jack, poker, all kinds of card games were scattered from one place to another while one area was left untouched. The marble floor was polished for the spinning disco ball that shined above. The dance floor. She smiled to herself, ever so tempted to put her ballet shoes to work.

Stepping furtherer in, she could not help but noticed the other women. She frowned in comparison. They were all wearing beautiful long gowns, it was like Prom night at a local high school. Looking down at herself, her cheeks went red in shame. She should had double checked. She had picked her best dress thinking it was good enough, a pure cream tub dress, ripples of fabric layering on top one another under her bust, flowing out to her knees. When she saw the dress, the soft fabric and shimmer made her think of roses, beautiful and elegant. Her friend Ash, whom she was purchasing the dress from, said that was their popular item. 'A beach wedding dress' she was told.

It matched her ballet shoes perfectly, thou she just felt silly wearing them to this benefit. Why was House so dead set on their silly bet she wondered but with a deep breath, she hugged her cream thin sweater to herself a little more, her long untamed hair pulled and twisted into a long braid ending half way down her back, tied off with a white band, letting the rest of the curls trail down her spine to her hip.

"They truly out did themselves." She stated, hearing the muffled grumble behind her. Turning, she stared at her date, smiling with delight at the view. House stood close behind her, his face pinched with irritation. Even with that scrawl on his face, seeing him dressed in his tux, pure black with black satin lapels. The black bow tie laying across his white collared shirt made her want to tug it and kiss him silly. To see him dressed up, well, it was hot!

When he arrived at her door, banging on it non-stop until she answered, she opened it in her bathroom and hair wrapped up in a towel. The sight of him was breath taking. Her face felt flushed and her words died on her tongue when he swept past her, his sliver tip cane poking at her side. He demanded to know why she was not dressed and she had to shake herself back to normal. With a cross of her arms, she stated he never really _asked_ her to go, he just figured she would. He glared at her and for a split second, she thought he was going to run out in a huff. And yet, House still amazed her and let her see a side that was so rare she couldn't help the flutter in her heart.

He just walked over, standing so close to her she could feel his heat. He was silent and she couldn't find herself to say anything. A sudden moment made her jump as his hand rose and cupped her cheek lightly, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone. He didn't saw a word, just stared with his blue eyes. As close as they were, she felt herself drowning in them. He was asking her, he didn't need to talk. His eyes spoke for him and she couldn't refuse such a plea.

Looking away flushed, she muttered her compliance to go much to his ever growing ego. He slapped her cheek lightly and told her to get ready and fast but this time, it was her turn to shock him. With a step back, she removed her robe letting him get the full glance of her dress. His lips parted in shock as she went on to remove the towel from her head, letting her styled hair be seen. Keeping her eyes on the floor, she picked up the hem of her dress and spun in front of him slowly, letting him get a good look. She asked how she looked and he just marched over and hugged her, his face burying itself into her throat before devouring her lips in a kiss that left her breathless and light headed

He told her to get her shoes and they left. So there they were, among the sharks of the donors and fishes of the staff. Taking his arm in her hand, she walked with him everywhere he went. It seemed he was trying to avoid people but it didn't do much help since they kept gawking at him. She wondered why, was it really that rare for him to show up? He lead her to the bar where he ordered himself a drink before waving his hand to her, signaling for her to order as well. She couldn't help the smile on her lips. He was to cute sometimes, even if he was trying so hard to be an ass.

House had to bit his inner cheek to keep himself from gloating. Every couple they went by, every single guy or married looked at Annabelle with awe and jealousy towards him. For the first time in years, House brought a date to a benefit and she was a knock out. When he first saw her, he couldn't catch his breath. She looked so pure, so innocent. He almost felt guilty for touching her, for ruining her for anyone else. Almost. He was even more touched when he noticed she picked a tub dress. That meant he could see her scar and that just added to her beauty. Thou he was tempted to stomp his foot and throw a fit that would make a five year old frown in embarrassment when Ann slipped on a sweater, basically destroying her dress and stopping his eyes from seeing her shoulder.

He was gonna get that off her by the end of the night. He swore it.

"Wow, so how much did you have to pay to get this one to come?"

Ann turned with him at the offending voice and lord and behold. Sam stood, a brow raised on her sour pinched face. House let his eyes trail down her black dress, working his jaw at the choice of words he can throw but Ann just reached out and fixed his tie making him snap his teeth shut, listening to her speak.

" One sixty. I think he cleaned up nicely, don't you?"

Sam glared to her which Ann replied with a sweet smile. Oh yeah, Sam still remembered her from the drink throwing scene.

"So Sam." House broke the awkward silence. "Where's your prettier half? And by pretty, I mean yes, Wilson is pretty then you." Sam only sighed, her mind ready for his snappy remarks and come backs. "He's parking the car. You think you're ready to behave tonight?"

"Hell no." House remarked lifting up his drink in a salute before gulping it.

"Figured." She muttered. House reached to snag the next but Ann laid her hand on top of it, her lips a frown. She stared at him worried and that made his stomach swim in guilt. Why did he feel bad? He didn't know but her expression wanted to make him lean over and kiss that frown away, to leave her breathless and smiling like earlier. With a oath, he put his hand back down on the bar top, earning him her hand on his own. He couldn't stop his fingers from lacing into her own, giving them a light squeeze. Tonight, he was going to behave… Well, he'll try at least.

Wilson showed up a little bit later and with the whole gang settled, House invited them all to hit the poker table. If he had to stay for the stupid party, he might as well screw every donor plus his best friend out of their hard earn money!

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"Now, you look at your cards and from there, you see what kind of hand you have."

House watched as Ann flipped the corners of her two cards , her eyes narrowed in concentration. He was not surprised when he picked the Texas Holdem table Ann was the first to object. Leave it to him to pick the one chick to date that doesn't know a thing about his favorite game. While Sam busied herself with Wilson, touching his arm, leaning close to whisper into his ear, not that he was paying 'that' much attention. He just noticed, that's all. He noticed something odd, the fact that Wilson barely spoke. His friend just sat in his chair next to him and stared idly at the chips and cards on the table. He said a few words, mostly to answer questions when asked but other then that, he didn't try to pick up a conversation. Side glancing, House admitted to himself, Wilson looked nice. His ironed suit laying perfect along his body, his hair fluffed and combed. Wilson was perfect… House felt his fingers itch in need to touch his friends wrist that laid unmoving on the poker table. He wanted to lean close and smell his after shave while muttering a dirty joke into his ear to make Wilson chuckle. He wanted…. He wanted..

"Soo… I have two of a kind?"

House looked back to his date, watching her look back and forth from the cards on the table to her hand. Reaching over, he flipped her cards up to his eyes before sighing out. "You suck at this game."

"This was why I wanted to play twenty one. Its just counting."

Putting the cards down, the dealer asked for their bids and House took two of his chips and two of Ann, tossing them in the middle.

"What are you doing?" She hissed, snatching his arm. "That was fifty dollars! I can't win on a pair of twos!"

"Not anymore, you just sold yourself out."

Ann's lips parted before pressing together in a huff. She looked away and House couldn't keep himself from smiling. She was so cute when she was all in a huff. Time went by like a breeze, a couple of played hands and Ann was starting to catch up. In the middle of their twentieth hand, music began to play. He felt Ann stiffen and look back and soon his own eyes joined her. She was looking at the dance floor, soft instrumental music drifting over head as couples appeared dancing across the marble. House looked back to the betting table, tossing in another chip before Ann turned back, tossing her cards in. "I fold, lets dance House."

"Can't, good hand." He stated, his eyes watching the other players struggle with their choices. Ann simply pouted before tugging his sleeve. "How about after?"

"Eh, not in a dancing mood. Go on without me."

"I'll look silly trying to slow dance with myself."

"You're a ballet dancer, you look silly no matter what."

She gave a sigh and slumped a little in her chair. It was Wilson's turn to place his bet and House waited, watching his friend carefully. There was only one person who could see through his bluffs which meant Wilson was his only threat. His friend lifted the ends of the card, looking quietly. Sighing deep, he pushed the cards forward muttering, "I'm out." Before House could say anything, his friend pushed himself to stand.

"Where you going James?" Sam asked lightly, her hand grabbing his forearm lightly. Wilson looked away from her, giving a shrug. "Eh, I'm tired.."

"You want to play something else?" Wilson pressed his lips a little, trying to find an excuse to get away. Sam's perfume was making him sick, she was always touching him, pressing into him, asking him what cards he had. It was annoying and he wanted her to stop. Closing his eyes, he turned and blurted out his escape "Annabelle, you still want to dance?"

Who was more shocked at that moment, Wilson couldn't pick. Sam's rejected face, House blank expression or Annabelles worried one. He just needed to get away from the table, away from Sam. He needed to know answers and he knew only one person who would be straight with him.

"J-James, if you wanted to dance you could of as-"

"Your in the middle of your hand." He cut Sam off, pulling his arm from her grip gently. She sat there hurt and insulted as Wilson walked around his friend to Ann, holding his hand out to her. Annabelle looked to House whose brow raised up in question. "You sure that's a wise idea?" She asked taking his hand slowly, he helped her rise from the chair. "I'll be sure to keep you away from the punch bowl. This suit's a rental."

"Liar." House chipped in, taking a sip from his drink. "You never rented a suit in your life."

"You been going through my accounts against haven't you?" House just gave a helpless shrug, "Got bored, what did you buy for five hundred dollars at the 'naughty but nice' site?"

"None of your business, come on Ann." He tugged her with him much to her surprise leaving House and Sam behind. When they disappeared into the crowded floor, House glanced over to Sam, watching her huff and fume. When her eyes caught his own, he grinned and pointed stating, "Oh snap, no he DIDN'T" before swinging back to the poker table.

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	25. Chapter 24

**Authors note: I had planned this story to be a bit longer but fearing all these chapters will start to sound old or repeated, I had cut some scenes to bring the story to a quick end. Don't worry, I have one last drama scene planned out. Hope ya'll will keep with me and follow to the end. Oh and forgive for my grammar and spelling errors, my last two beta's have left me to do their own thing so I am left to do this on my own and I plain suck at it so I'm just warning you now. **

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This was nerve wrecking. Annabelle glanced strongly at her dance partner, getting herself ready for anything he might pull. Was he going to try and humiliate her? She was startled when he stopped and turned fully towards her. She took a step back when he took her by the hand.

"Wilson." She started but he shock his head, his free hand resting lightly upon her hip. "I wont do anything.. I just needed to talk

They began to move, small little steps side to side. She could feel his palms becoming warm with a hint of wetness. Was he nervous? Her hand rested onto his forearm that held her hip so and let him lead her around, her eyes looking up into his own. Searching, they looked so sad, so lonely. Tilting her head back down, she pressed her lips together. This wasn't her business. She needed to take care of House not his friend.

"Ann… Can I ask you something?"

She perked back up, her eyes wide. He looked down at her serious, his fingers giving her hip a soft squeeze. She didn't know what to make of this, she should be cold towards him for how he treated House, his own best friend but of all the stories she heard, all the things House said he gave up, it was getter harder and harder to keep herself from feeling sorry towards him. But for the time being, she'll just keep herself in check and keep saying he was still the mean old S.O.B. who broke House's heart.

"Earlier… When I asked you why you were making my life miserable, you said because I deserved it." She gave a slow nod, remembering their outburst that afternoon. What was he getting at she wondered, was he going to tell her to apologize for it?

"Was it because of the karaoke night? Because I didn't show up?"

Wilson watched her and she huffed, her eyes glancing away to the other couples beside them. "Well yes, that and the other times."

"What other times?"

She looked back with disbelief, her brows narrowed. "Don't play stupid, I know for a fact House asked you to go with him on several events that you backed out on. I hate monster trucks shows and when House called me telling me you didn't want to go to the event, I had."

"What Monster Truck event?"

She fumed, her bangs curling in on her red cheeks. "Not only that, but he had three movie nights he called you for and I was there to watch him wait for you. You're low of the low Wilson, if you were going to bail, you should have just said…no…" She choose that moment to look up, to glare at him and his facial expression made her words jump back down her throat. His body had stopped moving, leaving them stranded in the middle of the dance floor. His eyes were wide, lips part. He shock his head before he started to narrow his brow. "W-When.. I don't remember any… House never called me."

"What are you saying, of course he called."

"I-I don't get it." His hands dropped from her, raising to dig into his coat pocket for his phone. "I never got a call. I-I thought House was still mad at me, I don't understand. Why didn't he just ask me in person?"

Annabelle could not believe what she was seeing. If Wilson was faking this 'going dumb' then he was doing a very good job. She watched him fuss over his phone, his fingers tracking, was he just doing this for show? Taking a step closer, she reached up and touched his face, jerking him out of his search to look onto her. She stared into his eyes, looking, trying to find that one flicker of amusement, of doubt that gave her all the reason to slap him across the face and leave.

All she saw was panic, sheer terrifying panic.

"Oh god…. You didn't know?"

He shock his head, his arms falling to his side. How could this happen? He always checked his phone so there was no way he could of missed… A sudden realization struck him. He remember nights, when he was watching T.V. or when he was getting read for bed, his phone went off. He remembered reaching out to get it only to have Sam pick it up for him. He remembered her smiling face as she waved him to go back to what he was doing and answer the phone. Every time she got off and he asked who it was, she always said it was House calling to bother him. Never to ask him out, just to bother. He remembered her hushed voice when she spoke to House but he never asked what she said. He would try to take the phone to call him back but Sam just scooted close, straddled him and pulled him close to smother him in kisses that he just forgot.

Sam was behind all this? Why would she make him stand House up? Why did she refuse events she knew he would go too…

Annabelle pulled him slowly and in his sudden awaking, he could only follow. Why? Why did Sam do it? What did she have to gain? He felt arms wrap around his neck, fingers digging into his hair lightly. "Sorry." That voice whispered into his ear. He turned his head a little to press his cheek into her own, feeling her breath on his ear. "I'm so sorry…" She cooed to him, holding him close. "Man… Now I feel bad about the drink." All Wilson could do was chuckle before wrapping his arms around her waist, hugging her back lightly. He just let another person wedge a gap between his best friend of twenty years, blindly, just because he didn't pay attention. "Not as bad as I feel."

He closed his eyes a little to her running fingers, petting him away into a calm state. Maybe this was why House liked her so much, she was very good at making him relax. "Just explain to House what happened. It'll be okay."

"Its to late. Things changed to much to go back to normal."

"That's not true." She argued lightly, pulling away so she could looked up to him, her face set in honesty. "He would take you back in a heart beat, just tell him."

"You don't know House like I-"

"Wilson, I know a lot of things about House that you don't."

Standing up straight, he sighed deeply before throwing his hands at her. "What don't I know then?"

She looked away then, her fingers trailing down along his shoulders to his forearms. "Its not my place to say." She confessed lightly. "Just know, you have no idea how much he cares for you Wilson. No idea…"

He narrowed his brows at her words. He had hoped House cared for him, of all people House was the only person who would accept Wilson, mistake and all.

"I'm just jeopardizing myself telling you this." She whispered helplessly, her hands falling off his arm. "Thinking you stood him up, him knowing you were with Samantha every night, that you picked her over him. House took it hard. You know how selfish he is… Just think."

"I didn't pick anyone!"

"Oh Wilson… Don't be blind and ignore the answer." Her hands patted his arm lightly, a sad smile on her lips. "Now.. You need to fix it."

"How?"

"I have no idea." She answered honestly. "But you have too."

"Mind if I cut in?"

Both Wilson and Annabelle jumped at House's voice, turning to look at him. Annabelle began to laugh weakly as Wilson rubbed the back of his neck. "Something happened between you two." House mused, pointing to them with his cane. "Should I be worried?"

"Well, if you think Wilson and I becoming friends is something to be concern about, this yes. You should." She reached over and tugged Wilson's arm, giving it a hug for good measure. House just sighed, stabbing his cane between them, dislodging them apart. "Yeah yeah, peachy. How about giving me back my girlfriend and you can get your own. She's bringing the poker table down."

Wilson slumped his shoulders a little before muttering, "Great." Looking towards Annabelle, he watched how House moved closer to her, settling his hand on the small of her back. She gave him a sad smile, this told Wilson she knew something he didn't. "Thanks… for the dance Ann."

"Your welcome." She watched him turn and leave, mingling his way back into the crowed and towards the gambling tables. She truly believed if they had started out on the right foot, she would have really liked him. With a tap of his cane, House pulled Annabelle towards him making her squeal, pressing her close to his chest muttering. "Since I'm out here. I 'guess' I should get this over and done with."

Her eyes were wide when she felt his heart beat against her cheek. His left hand held her back and cane, making her flinch as it dug into her spine but his right hand held her left so lightly, she didn't mind the discomfort. Closing her eyes, she began to think, her free hand reaching up to curl into his suit.

So, this was just an misunderstanding. House's thoughts of Wilson hating him, of picking Sam over him was false. What will Wilson do now that he knows the truth? What will House do when he finds out? Bowing her head a little, she felt her heart give a painful squeeze. She said she wanted to make House happy, she wanted to help him find the light in his darkness and help him keep his nightmares at bay.

What if this little bit of information was all House needed for him to turn to Wilson again. What if this action was all Wilson needed to turn back to House. They would return to normal and House would finally be by his side.

He would not need her.

That answer made her sick to her stomach. Why should she be upset? She knew this would happen. She knew that maybe one day House would get his dream, she didn't know how, but it would happen. So she kept telling herself, she was there to help. She was there to be Wilson's replacement until he returned and yet, with every day she spent with House, she began to care for him more and more. His rough side was hard to get by but when he soften towards her, letting her touch him, letting her take care of him. She liked him.. Really liked him. But she had to tell him.

"House, I need to tell you something." She pulled away but House snatched her right hand, "Lift up." He commanded, she blinked up at him confused. He sighed and made a circle motion with his free hand leading her to slowly push onto the tips of her feet. His hand touched her arm and began to spin her, making her kick her left foot out so she didn't have to stop to trade feet. He twirled her three times before stopping her, she just followed him, unsure of his motives.

He moved with her slowly, careful of his steps due to his leg but he still managed to twirl her around him, to throw her out into a high kick before spinning her back. The dress was perfect in her movements, flowing around her like mist in a dream. House chuckled to himself selfishly as people stopped to stare, to watch in awe of his girls dancing, of their grace. Yes it was showing off and House freakin loved it.

When the music began to come to an end, he pulled her back into his arms, holding her close as they stepped back into the slow dance, back into the regular rhythm.

So that was why House wanted her to wear the shoes. She didn't know if she should be either honored or embarrassed at the attention they got.

"Alright, what did you want to tell me?"

She stiffen a little before glancing up, letting her eyes rest on his face. Her heart sank when she saw him smile. His face had soften, those blue eyes glittering with delight in the dim lights, his lips giving her an honest to god smile that melted her very bones. He didn't look normal, he didn't look the same. He was so handsome and that made it harder for her to confess. "Its uh… About Wilson."

His right eyebrow shot up but he didn't lose that smile, he just kept staring, leaning in closer to touch his nose with her own. Why was he making this so hard on her? Did he know how much this would hurt? How much his softer side made her want to be selfish and keep him? She was there to help him so he could help her.

"What about him?" He whispered.

Closing her eyes, she felt her heart give one last plea. Reaching up, she touched his face lightly. "… He's a good dancer."

House chuckled, stealing a quick kiss from her. A kiss leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. Yes, she was selfish, a self center lying bitch. If she told him the truth, then everything would change, she would no longer be his light or companion.

As he pulled her close, resting his chin on top of her head, she blinked back her tears. House would find out the truth until then she would live in the moment and just hope it wouldn't come to soon.

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	26. Chapter 25

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Alarms were going off in his head. He kept telling himself to calm down, take a breath and just ask her to explain. There had to be a reason. Yet half of his brain was yelling at him to turn away and run to the nearest bar. To bury himself in the booze in order to forget tonight, to forget the lie he discovered just so he could wake up the next day with a smile and without a care in the world. Just like all the other times. His feet hurried to his loft, fingers squeezing the keys tight, threatening to cut him. He could feel it and he didn't care. So many things rang through his head but one thing kept screaming out.

Sam lied to him.

Sam betrayed him.

Why!

Her foot steps were muffled behind him, her voice never stopping like nails raking across a chalk board. Asking why he embarrassed her in front of the poker table, why he didn't ask her how she felt when he returned, why didn't he dance with her too? Why did they leave early? Why didn't he pick up the shampoo on the way home. All these questions that normally never bothered him was driving him crazy. His hand could not move fast enough when he unlocked the door, pushing it open to let her in.

She walked by with a huff, tossing her purse and coat onto the center piece. She looked around, her face telling him she wanted to argue but she was trying hard to hold back her tongue. In his head, he begged her to say something, he wanted her to start it. That was the coward in him, he hated being that person, to ruin something. He told people daily they were going to die and in his personal life, he wanted so badly to be the victim at home.

Sam let out a deep breath before slumping her shoulders in defeat. "I'm going to bed."

"Why did you do it?"

She turned to look back at him, her tired face uninterested. "Do what?"

Wilson stood there silent, his eyes staring at his shoes. He needed to know. Did she not trust him? He swore to change, he wasn't going to do the stupid things like he had done with all his past girlfriends, past wives. " All my calls from House. Did you honestly think I would never find out?"

Wilson chest felt the heat of rage bloom when Sam face went into a shocked and concern expression. She knew what he was talking about, she had the nerve to step into his affairs with House. She turned her back to him, her voice cracking as she deflected. "James, I don't know what your talking about, lets just go to bed."

So that was it. She was still a selfish bitch from the past. "You should have just told me." He whispered, his fingers curling into a fist. "You shouldn't have done that to my friend."

"Friend?" Sam finally snapped, turning back to him, her hands flinging out. "He's not a friend James! He went out of his way to break us up for two weeks! His late night phone calls, the pranks, invading of our love life!"

"That's just how he is Sam!"

"Friends don't do that James! Insane people do that, god he should had just stayed at Mayfield." The second those words left her lips, Sam's hand slapped over her mouth quickly. She stared at him shocked, guilt washing over her in her choice of words.

Wilson's eyes snapped wide. "Get out."

"Wait James; I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to sa-"

"GET OUT!" Snatching his keys from his pocket, flinging the door open. "You have NO IDEA what he had to go through in that place! What right do you have to say, to go and do…AUGH! Out! I want you out of my loft!"

She was scared, her hands trembling. Was he really telling her to leave? Had she really crossed the line in hope that they could spend the rest of their years together? "J-James." She pleaded, "Lets talk about this, we both didn't have a good day. We don't know what we're saying."

"Oh oh.' He laughed, "I know what I'm saying perfectly. You're a selfish bitch and House was right, I should had never taken you back."

"Take me back?" She marched over to him, her red face placed before his own. "You begged me to come back! You said this time would be different but its not!"

"Your right, its not!" Stepping back, he walked out hearing her rush behind him. "Last time I didn't have House to warn me. I want you and all your stuff out of my loft by tomorrow!"

Sam clenched the door frame to his retreating back, "Where am I suppose to go James? I don't have my apartment anymore!"

James just took the stairs, his voice declaring 'Not my problem!' echoing up to her ears leaving her to crumble and fall to her knees in tears, listening to the angry slam of the stairwell door, giving her to silence to hear her own choking breaths. Her shaking hands covered her face slowly as she sobbed, her body trembling in the need to scream. What was she going to do now? This was all House's fault.

All his fault….

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It was like a dream. Annabelle closed her eyes, a small smile touching her lips. She could spend hours like this, letting her flesh tingle and relax in ease. On her stomach, hugging her pillow, burying her cheek into it lightly, sighing out her bliss and thoughts.

House laid next to her, one of his hands trailing endlessly along her back. Feather like touches, tracing each bone, brushing every inch of her flesh, caressing her scar with such tenderness that tears could fill her closed eyes. He made her feel whole, made her feel that she was beautiful just the way she was. Scar or not. Turning her head, she peeked up to him shyly, watching his collected face break into a warm glow of happiness. He didn't say anything but she could read the words on his expression.

Resting his cheek on his free hand, supporting himself onto his side so he could gaze down on her. He simply watched every rise and fall of her shoulders in her breaths, the river of curls spreading along the end of his bed, slipping over like those fairy tales; Rapunzel or something like that… He chuckled to himself, that made him the knight, he was alright with that. He still had the kick ass sword from one of his past cases.

The benefit wasn't as bad as he had thought it to be. His ego had a huge stroke when people approached him, spending most of their time wanting to know about his date, wanting to know how he, the S.O.B. of Piston managed to snagged an angel of a dancer and a hot one at that. He wanted to kick his feet and actually giggle. GIGGLE!

Before he knew it, the party was starting to wind down and Cuddy had found him to state how shocked she was at his good behavior. Even Lucas, whom of course came with her, slapped his back in agreement. It wasn't long before he began to tug Annabelle's arm out, wanting to return home. He wouldn't admit it, not out loud, but he did enjoy himself. He spent major of his time watching her worry over the games, spinning on the dance floor, mingling with the donors and trying to act like she knew the medical terms they were useing.

Suddenly, after watching her look over her should back to him, to give him a small wave of her fingers before going back to the group of people, he found himself asking, how did he come to have her next to him? What good had he done to deserve such an angel easing his mind with gentle touches, to chase the darkness away with strong arms that embraced him. She done so much for him, it was about time he gave back.

So the second the door of his apartment closed, when she began to remove her coat and ready herself to sleep. He took her in his arms and held her. He wanted to treasure her like the gem she was, he wanted her to know through his touches, through his lips how much he liked her, how much he appreciated her being in his life.

She was so elegant in her dress, so fine. He almost felt guilty making her melt in pleasure. Leading her towards his piano, settling her upon the lid, he wanted to… for the first time in a while… He wanted to connect deeper then such sex. He wanted… to make…love? Wow, that was a weird feeling that bubbled up inside of him to that question. He wanted to play her as beautifully, as sweetly and as lovingly as he did on his piano. Her voice now his keys, hitting those sweet tones of arousal.

From the piano, they managed to get to his bedroom. He didn't really remember how they made it but he did remember the lip lock, the hot breath across his cheeks and her eager arches to get closer.

Now here they laid, enjoying the after glow of release. Normally he never wanted to be touched after post sex but this new feeling, this bubbling emotion made him want to touch her, to keep in contact.

"You really did look nice tonight." She muttered into his pillow, breaking the comfortable silence. He grinned almost childishly, leaning closer to poking her forehead playfully. "That's what you paid me for. Which brings the topic, when am I gonna get my money?"

"You take checks?"

"Ha ha, no. I except it on my night stand, cash, before I wake up."

"Wow, alright, before I do that can I at least get my moneys worth tonight? You want the Benjamins, you gotta show me some goods."

"Fine just no kissing on the lips. Makes me feel more whorish."

She laughed before rolling onto him, landing on his left side to avoid his leg. Her voice rang out in laughter, mixing with his own as he shoved over on top, his fingers quick to tickle her. The playful teasing began to grow hot and heavy when a sudden sound paused them both.

House lifted his head from hers, glancing over his shoulder with a brow raised. Someone was knocking on his door. Annabelle began to pull the covers over herself, her hand pushing her messy hair from her face. "Who could that be?" She panted lightly.

House bowed his head with a sigh, burying his face into her chest muffling, "I know that knock… Ignore it. Maybe he'll go away."

"He?" She squealed when she felt his hands reach under the covers to pinch her rump, trying to slide between her legs. With a shove, House rolled off her with a groan as she slipped out, snagging his white collar shirt from his tux. "Whoever 'he' is; he might need your help." Flinging his arms, he listened to her slip on the shirt and leave the room. Dang it; why could he not have one night? One measly night without his mind wondering off onto that painful area of his fears, of his longing. He almost had a night where he didn't think 'what if', one night where he didn't think.. of him…

Buttoning the last slit; Annabelle pushed her hair back before peeking through the peep hole, her heart stopping. Well… The sinking cold pit in her stomach began to come back and grow, leaving her to shiver in the coldness of despair. Things had to end at some point, but did it truly have to be tonight? Such a memorable experience in House's arms ended with nothing but tears and a voice whispering, 'I warned you…'

Biting her lower lip, she took a few deep breaths, jumping a little when he knocked on the door again, this time sounding more urgent. Might as well get this over with she thought as she grabbed the door, unlocking it and pulling it open.

"Wilson?"

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	27. Chapter 26

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Annabelle smiled softly as she handed Wilson a glass of whiskey. He took it from her fingers with a nod of his head in thanks, his eyes staying on the floor. Earlier, when the door opened, his beating heart came to a painful stop when he saw her. He shouldn't feel disappointed, she was dating his best friend. It was normal for her to be staying at his place. Just like him and Sam… He gave her a weak smile, his arms lifting a little showing his empty palms in a helpless jester of uncertainty. "I asked her…" He told Ann, making her eyes widen. Lowering his hands back to his side, head bowed down, his shoulder beginning to tremble. "All this time, she…I didn't… fucking stupid!"

His body stiffen when he felt a sudden impact. Opening his eyes, he looked to find Annabelle hugging him, her arms wrapped around his neck tightly. Her fingers brushing through his hair, her cheek against his own. He didn't know what came over him but he just wrapped his arms around her back and held tight, returning her hug. He wanted to cry, it was stupid, pointless! But he just had found out his friendship could have been ruined over a selfish act his girlfriend made just to keep him in the dark. He never knew how much it could of hurt House or how much it would cost him to make everything alright again.

Bowing his head, Wilson buried his face into her shoulder, breathing deep and the scent lingering on her sent a wave of calm through out his body. She smelt strange but not unpleasant, it was nice. His nose could pick up a small hint of coconut left on her skin but there was something else, something more dark, more lustful. She smelt like a women basking in her afterglow of ecstasy and yet he could smell House on her. His scent was all over her. He never in his wildest dreams would he find THAT a turn on and yet, he did. He felt his clothing suddenly grow tight and his fingers give her a squeeze to pull her closer. He wondered, if his lips touched if he could taste House…

"Hey! If this is going to be a threesome at least have the common sense to get inside!"

Wilson shot off Annabelle the second his friends voice boomed. Face flushed, his hands hovering almost above his head, he looked to the door. House stood there in his blue robe, arms crossed and eyes glaring daggered in his direction. Shit, what was Wilson thinking? He basically coped a field on his best friends girl and not only that, he started to think about kissing her, he ignored the sudden disappointment in his stomach since the guilt was way to high at the moment. How could he think of doing that? How could he think of kissing her just to kiss House… Why was he thinking about kissing House?

"H-House its not what it looks like."

House only snorted before reaching out with his cane, looping the curve into Annabelle arm, yanking her back inside and to his side. "Yeah yeah, here's a memo. Don't touch another mans toy, mainly mine."

"Woah, what did I say another calling me a toy?"

House kept his grip on her even through her squirming, his eyes never leaving Wilson flushed face. "Not now sweetie, the big boys are talking."

"My god, quit with the alpha male thing, Wilson seemed upset so I just hugged him."

"That's what he wants you to think, I bet little Jimmy wouldn't mind a hug as well."

"I broke up with Sam."

Both House and Annabelle stopped at his statement. Wilson lowered his hands, looking at House with a plea in his eyes. He wanted House to take his mind off it, he wanted House to poke fun, to tell him, 'I told you so.' and make everything return back to normal. Yet House just stood there, his brows shot up and his lips slightly parted. He wanted House to do something.

Annabelle was the first to move, elbowing her way from House's grip, "I think." She started, "I better leave you two alone." Wilson gave her a thank you smile as she inched past House to retrieve her things but House snagged her arm once again muttering.

"No."

Turning, House tilted his head in his signal for Wilson to come in, shutting the door once his friend was fully inside. Wilson began to walk to the couch, letting House turn his back to him and fully to Annabelle, squeezing her forearm lightly. She stared up at him confused, her voice whispering harshly. "Greg, he needs you to talk to him. I shouldn't be here."

"No." He ordered quietly. "Stay."

Her arms sagged in disappointment. Why was it so hard for House to simply talk to people? He did just fine with her and Wilson shouldn't be that big of a deal. As much as her heart cried for her to keep her hold, she knew it was a losing fight. House was not truly hers, his heart would never pick her. "Greg I really don't think-"

"Please…" He looked at her and she could see it. His eyes were pleading, his jaw set. She frowned at him as he squeezed her arm. "I.. I need you here." As softly as she could, she rose her free hand to his arm, brushing along his elbow lightly. "Why?"

"I don't want to go back." He simply stated. House turned his head away slightly, his eyes tightly closed. "I don't want… Just stay."

So that's why. House was scared. If she left them alone, House could risk his heart again to Wilson. He didn't want to bond with his friend, to let that friendship blossom in his chest, burning deeper day after day with love that could never be. He didn't want to feel that again and watch as another girl walk into their life, watch with sicken jealousy as Wilson followed suit and took another women into his arms. House didn't want to risk falling back into his pit of despair and loneliness.

Looking over to Wilson, making sure he was looking else where. She stepped closer and tipped his chin with her hand, making him look back to her. "Greg, you can do this."

He shock his head weakly, his hand finally letting her go to grip his cane. "No, I'm not… Not yet. Stay.."

She gave a deep sigh before nodding, her hands touching his chest in a gentle stroke. "Alright but you still need to talk to him. Go, I'll get you boys something to drink." A peck to his chin, she left him to go to the kitchen, letting him look back to Wilson, staring at the back of his head helplessly.

He better get this over with. Just keep calm, bite the bullet and like a rotten tooth, just get it over with and rip it out. Approaching the couch and settling down on the other side, House picked up the remote to his television set. This was normal, they did this all the time. Settling for a marathon of Law and Order, he tossed the remote and looked to Wilson and waited.

They said nothing, they didn't move. Wilson stared at the ground and House stared at him. Who would make the first move? Who would take the first step.

So that's where they were stuck at. Wilson sat quietly next to House, House sat fidgeting endlessly next to Annabelle and Annabelle… well, she just flicked through the channels. She was asked not to leave and even thou her heart begged her to retire to bed, wanting to spare herself the pain of grief when Wilson finally confessed the reality, House would go back to loving him like he should and she would be left behind.

But, deep down, she couldn't bring herself to leave him either. She feared that he could have a repeat, what if Wilson confessed but kept the 'friends only' card in play. House would have to watch him again go after another women. He couldn't move back in in the loft, he would just be asked to leave, a burden on Wilson's love life. She didn't want to walk in on House slumped on the couch, drugged out or possible worse.. No. She wouldn't think that.

She glanced over to them from the side, her lips a frown. Why weren't they talking? Wilson's leg had been bouncing for the past twenty minutes and House hasn't turned his head to look at her from that same length of time. Should she break the ice? Should she start it by telling House about the lie? Maybe if she… Her lips parted as she gave a small gasp.

She was there.

That's it! That had to be! Wilson didn't want to confess his idiocy to House with his lover there. Bad enough House had to hear it but to have his lover hear it too, that's two people who would look down on him. Two people who would mock him.

Surging to her feet, she clapped her hands. "You know what?' She began, making both their heads turn. "You guys like bad movies right? Well I just got one in the mail a few days ago, 'The sorcerers apprentice'. I liked it when it came out, why don't I go get it? We'll watch it, get drunk and pass out. Sound awesome? Of course! Be back in a giff!" and with that, she swiped her keys from House's computer desk and left his apartment, leaving behind two dumbstruck figures.

"… She's some type of women you got there." Wilson muttered.

"I'm starting to rethink this whole 'commitment' I made now." House answered, his brow raised. With a deep sigh, House grabbed the couch, pushing himself up. "I'm gonna grab another beer, you want one you can get it your-"

"Monster trucks." Wilson suddenly said.

House paused, sitting himself back down to stare at his friend blankly. "O…kay?' Wilson bowed his head, his fingers squeezing his knees. "Last month… You went to a monster truck rally."

"Yeah? So? I always go."

"Usually with me."

"Well you never showed up so typically-"

"I never got the message."

House tilted his head a little, his eyes demanding an answer that Wilson struggled to release. "I… Sam's been keeping me in the dark. Every phone call you made, every plan. Guy night, dates. She made sure I didn't know so I couldn't go."

"Why the hell would she do that?"

"I guess, so I wouldn't pick you over her like I did to all my other wives."

They became silent again. Wilson dared to look up, to look at his friend to see his reaction. Would he scoff and call him a moron and go get his drink? Would he get angry and demand pay back? Would he just sit there and suddenly act like he forgot? So many things his friend could do and Wilson felt his body begin to tremble in need to know.

House took a deep breath before blowing it out quickly. "Okay." He nodded and stood up, limping his way to the kitchen. Wilson's jaw dropped a little. "Okay?" He repeated, getting up to follow suit. "I just told you my girlfriend, well ex, just pulled a bitch move and all you can say to it is 'okay'?"

"Yup." He answered, taking another beer bottle from the fridge. Wilson shock his head in astonishment, hands coming to rest on his waist. "Seriously? That's it? No witty comment? No plan to leave a dead bird in her purse?"

"Is that what I did to your last wife?"

"This isn't like you."

"Fine. I promise to plan something tomorrow, maybe a nice water balloon filled with pee would make you happy ."

"Well I would except that kind of commitment right away… House have you, dare I say it. Have you changed?"

House looked away from him then, those blue eyes staring at the kitchen floor. Wilson felt his heart flutter for a moment in awe. Right there, right in front of him. He was seeing House for the first time give off an emotion willing. House looked at ease, calm. Wilson's statement didn't rattle him or send him into a craze like it normally did, didn't get back a crud comment or mockery. No, House just accepted it and moved on and he stood with a small smile on his face.

"Yeah." His fingers trailing along the smooth neck of his bottle, his eyes half closing with such warmth that Wilson felt his cheeks grow heated. He never seen his friend like this and strangely, he liked it. Really liked it!

"Wow." Wilson whispered. House looked to him and Wilson could help but smile in return. He waited years to see this, to see this emotion on his friends face without the drugs, without the pain in his eyes. He changed, he was opening himself up. There they stood, looking upon one another, enjoying the comforting silence. This was a new step and Wilson suddenly felt alright.

"Got it!" Wilson turned to Annabelles voice, watching her return. She held the DVD in her hand and a plastic bag hanging on her arm. "I got some more too, thought we could do a Disney night." Wilson turned to see what House would say to that, a Disney night, none stop cartoons and high school musicals, that would surly put a disgusted look of terror on his face .

The sight of House was breath taking. Wilson's took him all in, savoring the moment. House looked so different. His face had soften, making the wrinkles around his forehead and mouth fade. His lips were lifting in a smile far more powerful then any romantic song a pianist could perform. His eyes, my god, his eyes were glowing. Wilson knew it, those blue orbs looked clearer, looked so beautiful and so breath taking, Wilson envied whom ever they fell on.

It was right there when Wilson felt his heart crack. To him, time seemed to slow down as House began to walk by. His friend had changed, he was becoming whole new different person. He turned to watch him, a little voice inside of his head yelling at House to stop but his lips could not form the words. His wide eyes watched as House approached her, her worried face giving a small unsure smile before melting into a grin when House cupped her cheeks in his palms, sealing her worry with a kiss to her forehead. Wilson felt something inside of his chest shatter, felt a overwhelming coldness seep into his nerves.

House was different, he was changing.

And it wasn't because of Wilson…

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	28. Chapter 27

**For my fellow readers, as a special treat [and I was bored at work] I've drawn a lil rough pic of what the ending of this chapter looks like. You'll find it at the very bottom on this page, hope that like it!**

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"Wilson."

He grumbled lightly, burying himself deeper into the crook of his arm. His body felt drained, heavy. His mind floating with booze and empty thoughts. He didn't want to open his eyes, he just wanted to sleep more.

"Wilson." The voice whispered again.

He groaned out, his hand trying to wave away the annoying buzzing that picked at his ear. Couldn't they see he was asleep? "Go away." He muttered.

A gentle hand touched his shoulder, shaking him lightly. "Wilson wake up." The voice found its way through his foggy mind stirring him enough to open his eyes and peek up. Cuddy was looking down at him, her face covered in concern. He frowned looking around confused, finding himself in his office. A shake of his head, he sat fully up, palm rubbing his eyes as he tried to figure out how he got to there. "Wha?"

"Wilson, come with me." Cuddy said hurriedly, turning on her heel. Raising to his feet, he follow, tripping a little in his rush. "What's going on?" He asked. Cuddy didn't reply but simply kept walking down the hall, leading him furtherer away. He looked around and his eyes noticed something was very off. Where ever he looked, he couldn't find one person in the area. The hallways were bare, the rooms empty of any patients, no nurses walking back and forth in tasks. Everything was deserted.

"Cuddy whats going on?"

She kept walking, her heels clicking with every step. They were approaching the O.R., the lights shining far brighter then normal for some reason to his eyes. There, she finally stopped, turning around to face him. "Wilson, House is abusing Vicodin."

Wilson's jaw dropped a little, his hands quick to wave in disagreement. "N-No that's not possible. He's been clean for almost a year."

"I found him in his office taking a handful. His pain seems to have gotten worse over the past few months. He wont stop complaining about his leg."

"I-I don't know how this happened, look let me talk to him and get this all straighten out."

"You were suppose to watch him Wilson. He wasn't ready. I can't trust you to take care of him so I did it for you." She seemed colder, her eyes narrowed as she pushed the double doors open. She stepped inside and a sudden fear gripped him. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. His hands shook as he pushed the doors open, stepping inside to find the room pitch black, seeing nothing except a spot light that seemed to linger on Cuddy. She was standing in front of the viewing window, her eyes gazing down below.

He suddenly felt ill, his mouth drying. He didn't like this, he didn't like what he was seeing.

"What did you do?" He whispered.

Her head turned to glance over her shoulder to him slowly, her dim blue eyes staring emptily at him, boredly at him as she answered.

"You forced him back... So I took care of his leg."

Wilson voice was lost as Cuddy looked back. No, she didn't mean it like that. His knees suddenly became weak, sending him crashing to the floor. On hands and knees he panted, tears filling his eyes. "What did you do?" He shouted, his voice cracking. Cuddy wouldn't be so cruel, be so mean to take away the one thing House convents the most.

"You did this to him Wilson. I'm just cleaning up your mess."

His head shot up to retort but he was greeting with nothing but darkness. Cuddy was gone along with the window, leaving him along in a blank room, walls covered in nothing but red velvet curtains. What was going on? Where was House? What happened to him? With shaking limbs, he pushed himself back up right, needing to find his friend and make sure he was okay.

A cold chill shot down his spine when a gentle hum came out from behind him. The humming was soft, feminine, singing out a low note to a high note in a slow rhythm. It was a dark hum, clenching his heart in a fearful squeeze. "Where is House?"

"Oooh James, Oh James." The voice sang out lightly, sending him to spin around, his eyes searching for the women who called his name. A movement from the corner of his eye made him snap to the left and before him Annabelle stood. His relieved smile dropped when he noticed her outfit, a long black cloak covered her body from shoulders to toes, the hood pulled up to rest upon her thick curls that spilled out over the edges. She looked at him, tears in her sunken eyes.

Her voice came out softly, singing to him in such a way that Goosebumps crawled along his body.

"Ooh James, wont you spare me over another year?"

Her cloak flapped out suddenly, slapping around her, covering her in their fabrics. He cried out, his arms swinging wildly to get them off her. Thin sheets started to attack him, making him panic, making him back away but as quickly as it began they fell away leaving him standing there panting, beats of sweat rolling down his fear covered face. "Ann what is going on?" He yelled. Her cloak laid on the ground, empty, but he could still hear her humming, he could hear musical interments playing so deep, so bone braking his heart wanted to weep. "Annabelle!"

"How could you do it?" He jumped around from her voice, finding her behind him again this time, she was dressed in a black gown, the hem dragging along the floor, she walked towards him, keeping her pace even when he backed away. "W-What did I do?"

"How could you let them do this? To him?" She rose her hands to her face, covering her tear filled eyes. Wilson was lost, confused. "I-I don't understand!"

Like a ripple in water, her right hand left her face, reaching out beside her, her fingers gripping the air in the darkness. "Why didn't you save him?"

With a yank, the curtains fell and he was given another window, this time, to peek into an recovery ward. He looked to Annabelle who kept her face covered with her left hand, her right pointing inside. Wilson didn't want to look, he didn't want to know what lingered over there but his feet moved, taking him closer and closer to the glass.

On the other side, he found House laying in a bed. Machines beeping, heart rate signaling, air hoses puffing out air into his nose. He laid there still, his face a paler then normal. Wilson touched the window in dismay, his mind rattled. How? Why?

"What did Cuddy do to him?"

He heard her hum again, her left hand falling from her face to her chest, curling her fingers over her own heart. Her voice sang out lightly, her words echoing into his ears as he watched his friend slowly awake.

"But what is this I cant see with ice cold hands taken hold of me…"

House was looking around groggy, confused. Wilson could read it all over his face. He called out his name but House simply kept looking around, his fingers touching every needle, every tube in his skin. Suddenly House's head snapped back as he gasped out, fingers gripping the sheets tightly. He was in pain, Wilson shouted out his name again, fist pounding on the glass, searching for a door to get inside but none was present. He only had the window and walls. He couldn't get to House, why couldn't he get to him?

House trembled as he looked down, his face twisted in pain, grief and rage. Wilson watched with a horrified expression as House grabbed his blanket and threw it off himself.

"When God is gone and the Devil takes hold, who will have mercy on your soul, oh James?"

House screamed in pure agony, his fist striking out, smashing into the heart monitor, knocking it to the ground. He yelled, fingers ripping at the tube, spilling blood to the sheets . He tossed and turned on the bed, a man crazy with such bitterness, with such burning hot demise that he sobbed openly to the air. Wilson covered his mouth at the vile that came up, choking it back down. "Oh god… No."

"No wealth, no ruin, no sliver, no gold, nothing will satisfies him but your soul."

House clutched the empty spot where his leg once had been. Amputated. Cuddy had went and cut off House's leg. Wilson turned away, he couldn't look. He couldn't stand the sight of it. Annabelle was behind him and the second he opened his mouth to speak, She snatched him and shoved him back, her hands choking him. The air rushed from his lungs, his fingers gripping her wrists tightly.

"You could have saved him." She whimpered, tears falling from her eyes. "Why didn't you save him?"

"I-I didn't know!" He gagged out, heat flaring up his throat and cheeks. He looked up to her, his own tears falling. "W-Why didn't you?"

She let him go then, his body dropping like a stone to the floor. He cough and gasped, his hands grabbing his sore throat. He looked up to her, seeing her face twisted in grief and sorrow. "Because…." She whispered her feet moving her away, stepping back. "Because… He's not mine." She turned away and ran, her skirt fluttering into the cold air. He was left there alone, the sounds of House's cries and sob filling the room behind him. Wilson closed his eyes tightly and covered his ears, his body rocking back and forth. "I'm sorry." He choked out. "I'm sorry!"

All he got in responds, was her voice whispering out, singing one last line before everything went dark once again.

"My name is Death and the end is near…."

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Wilson shot up gasping, coughing out the air that laid trapped in his throat. His body trembled violently, his skin covered in an cold sweat that didn't much help his shivers. His head snapped around, quick to take in his surrounding and finding he was still in House's living room and yet it gave him no ease. A grumble sound made Wilson seal his lips in silence, his beating heart begging that when he looked, everything was alright. Beside him, House and Annabelle slept. Glancing to the T.V. Wilson took a slow deep breath, trying to control the adrenaline that rushed through his veins.

It was a dream, all a dream.

Apparently, during one of Annabelles Disney movies, they all seemed to have dozed off. Annabelle was slumped on her back, legs dangling off the side of the armrest, her head nestled neatly on House's left thigh, her hand limp by her slightly parted lips. House was slumped back into the couch, his head back in a snore. One arm draped over the back of the couch while the other rested on her head, fingers curled into her thick hair. Closing his eyes, Wilson bent forward, his back popping from the stiff position he slept in.

What the hell kind of dream was that? The cold pit was still in his stomach, the fear in his heart was still fleeting. Why did Cuddy tell him it was his fault? Was learning about Sam's betrayal and feeling the disappointment and, he hated to say it, jealousy of seeing that he wasn't the one that made House change, was that enough to make his mind blame himself? He was happy his best friend finally found a women that could make him smile like that, could make him look he had finally found a reason to keep going, to put up with life that didn't involve using Vicodin, no puzzles or chaos. Just pure love… He was just disappointed. Disappointed in himself, he couldn't get House to this state and yet Annabelle could within a few measly months.

Slumping back onto the couch, he looked back to the couple and he suddenly felt like the third wheel. He should leave, he should put back on his coat, shoes and go home and make sure Sam was gone. He sighed at the thought, he was to tired to fight any more, most likely she was still there, waiting for him to come back so they could 'talk' like anything she could say would change his mind. He could just go rent a hotel room again, just like the old times. Tilting his head back, his temple touched House shoulder lightly causing his friend groan out in irritation. Wilson muttered an apology, even thou House couldn't hear him Wilson was to polite to not say it, when he moved to get up; something unexpected happen.

House mumbled in his sleep, his head rolling to the side. With a groan, he pulled his arm back over the couch and let it slide down, draping itself along the back of Wilson's shoulders. The sudden weight made him go still, his breath caught in his throat. He waited for House to remove it but his friend simply curling his fingers into his forearm and pulled him closer, bringing him deeper into his right side. Wilson was careful not to touch his thigh, letting Houses elbow circle around the back of his neck, letting his hand drape down along Wilson's chest. Wilson's blushed when House sighed out, his breath brushing through his thick hair as he easing back into his sleep, his fingers stroking Wilson's tie that made him shockingly grateful he kept it on. Wilson waited for those fingers to stop moving, House's gentle caresses made a groan want to leave his chest but it bit his lower lip keeping it down. His body was reacting in a whole new way and that scared him.

Finally those fingers stopped their playing and curled themselves into his tie, rooting him to his side. Wilson couldn't move. He found himself, deep down he didn't want too. His body seeped into House's side, enjoying the warmth he felt, he couldn't remember the last time he was this close to his friend, those late night drinking. He remembered through the fuzzy haze that he use to pass out on his friend all the time and each time, he curled and hugged him, breathing him in and House, well he never pushed away. To drunk, to happy in booze land to care. Wilson missed those nights, he missed the connection, the jokes, the flutter in his chest when ever House use to walk with him down the halls at work. The headaches from House's ever growing demands and the sinful chuckle he held back as House became over protective with every nurse Wilson approached. Those were good times.

Their good times.

Closing his eyes a little, Wilson let himself sink into the abyss, letting his arm as gently as it could, reach around House's stomach, to hug him. After his nightmare, he didn't want House out of his sight and if House wondered why Wilson was cuddling him… He'll blame it on the booze, just like the old times.

With that alibi in his mind, Wilson let his eyes close, his cheek resting gently on the edge of House's chest, hearing his slow steady heart beat. His fingers traced along House's side until he felt something soft tickle his palm. Bowing his head, he let his mind shut down again, hoping when his dreams came, he didn't have a repeat of his nightmare. Until then, he would enjoy the ease he felt leaning against his friend and the tenderness of Annabelle's hair in his hand. Tomorrow, he would try to make sense of things.

Tomorrow.

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**Picture can by found here:**

gdi1_deviantart_com/#/d2y7avl; **IMPORTANT!** where the '_'; please replace them with '.'; for some reason this site won't show the link. Enjoy!


	29. Chapter 28

**Eh, sorry is this chapter seems a bit rushed or if House seems OOC; I'm trying to push faster so I can get to the climax. The next chapter will be up tomorrow afternoon. Can you guess whats going on?**

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"Annabelle's cheating on me."

Wilson pen stopped in the middle of his signature. House stood between his office door way, his arms bracing against the frame. Pushing off, he limped quickly to Wilson's couch, slumping down before Wilson could offer it.

"She's been acting weird for the past week."

Setting his pen down, Wilson laced his fingers on top of his paper work, turning his attention to his friend. Might as well get this over with. For the past three weeks, Wilson began to hang out with House and Annabelle a bit more and he came to find out, he actually enjoyed her company. He liked being House's friend again, getting that connecting fused back together but what was also a plus on his list was the fact he didn't have to handle House by himself. When House wanted to pull pranks, it didn't all fall on his head, it fell on Annabelle too and sometimes even Wilson joined in on the giggle with his best friend. Cause, come on? Watching Annabelle take a bite out of a sour cookie that House baked in a 'romantic gesture' suddenly spit out in a fit of curses and whines, ranting about how much she hated both of them, rushing to the bathroom to get rid of the bitter taste, Wilson couldn't keep back his barks of laughter.

Thou still, somewhere inside of his chest, it tightened whenever House was close. On that prank, House laughed next to him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder to pull him in a half hug, leaning on him to catch his breath and Wilson suddenly found himself wanting to wrap his arms around his neck and hold him close. To breath him in deep. These feelings confused him and at the same time, frighten.

Now that Sam was gone, his loft seemed so empty and void. No matter how much he wanted House to come back, he couldn't bring himself to ask. House had Annabelle now. House was moving on and Wilson, well, he had to play the best friend. Just like House did for him.

"I was going to call Lucas and have him do it but then I thought, wait, Wilson cheated on all his girlfriends, he must know all the secrets and trades!"

"Woah, back up. I missed something."

House let out an exaggerated sigh, his right hand rubbing his eyes annoyingly. "Look, I've been thinking, after your girlie confession of wanting me back."

"I didn't say that."

"Your didn't say it but I could see it in your eyes." He mocked, giving Wilson his best puppy dog look that his friend could only roll his eyes. House went on, waving his hand idly, "Well since we're a team again. I might as well drag you along with my antics."

"You think Ann is cheating on you and wait, when were we not a team?"

"Don't change the subject and think? I know." House growled, his arms crossing. "She's been coming back late this whole week, getting phone calls late at night and not telling me who it is and besides, I can smell another mans cologne on her."

"House, I think you need to talk to her."

"That's boring." He snapped, pushing himself to stand. "Anyway she'll just lie to me."

"So what do you suggest we do then?"

House thumped his cane on the floor with determination, "Catch her in the act!"

"Seriously? House, listen to me. Please just go and talk to her. Stop trying to screw everything up."

"I'm not screwing things up!" He snapped. Wilson sat back in his chair with a sigh, watching his friend turn away and glare out the glass door, staring out into the scenery. "If anything, she's screwing things up for me. I need to know why. I just need.." His fingers gripped his cane tightly for a second before his left foot shot out, kicking the glass door sternly. The sudden bang made Wilson jump but the way House look, he couldn't bring himself to shrug it away.

"Fine, what we going to do?"

"Met me in the lobby after work." He turned on his heels and stride off. Wilson pushed to stand, leaning over his desk to watch his friend leave. "What are you planning House?"

"To sing Wilson. We're going to sing!"

**/**

**/**

Wilson slumped on a bar top, watching with half closed lids as another girl got up on stage to sing. He finally figured out how many drinks one had to consume in order to think one could sing. The women had at least four shots before her friends push her up to blare out the lyrics to, ' touch me' from that Rocky Horror picture show song and dear god, her voice cracked with every pitch. Glancing to his side, he frowned when his friend took another gulp of his beer. House was dressed in his ' incognito' which was basically the collar of his shirt flipped up to his cheeks, his green truckers hat he got from one of the many monster truck rally's they went too and big goggle sunglasses.

"You need to find a new disguise" Wilson sighed, bringing his bottle close to his lips. "The idea is to hide from the person you're watching. Your get up just makes you more noticeable."

House snapped his head towards him and with pressed lips, he snatched his cane and struck it against Wilson's shin making him swear. They had been camped out at the bar for the past hour and there was still no sight of their target.

When Wilson showed up at the lobby, House was limping his way towards him yanking his arm. He demanded to know where they were going and House replied. 'Karaoke'.

Wilson had to say, he had been to this bar way to much. He came to find out, Annabelle did an annual Friday night karaoke fest. Sometimes Wednesdays too. House over heard his girlfriend talking about going to karaoke tonight and didn't bother to invite him. "She doesn't want me there." House growled in the car, "She's just trying to hide her dirty little secret."

Wilson offered to House to let himself talk to her but his friend would not hear it. It was better to catch her doing the deed then letting her lie to him about it. "She owes me this much."

Wilson had to admit. He wanted to catch her in the act as well. He liked her sure, but after all the stress and turmoil she put him through just because he mistreated House, to find out she was no better then he, that made her a hypocrite. Yet, Wilson couldn't bring himself to believe it. Annabelle didn't seem like the kind of the person to up and cheat, to play with House's heart only to turn around and mess with another. It wasn't like her at all but if it was true, House would be crushed. Wilson pressed his lips at the bitter outcome. House would most likely state he was right about all relationships, about love. There was no such thing and he would crawl back into his hole of isolation and hurt pride. He would go back to the old House, the bitter House.. The pill popping House.

Wilson would never forgive Annabelle for that.

"There she is!" House hissed, slapping Wilson arm to gain his attention. Turning on his stool, he looked towards the entrance and his brows shot up. Yup, Annabelle was there and the pit in his stomach shuddered when she noticed she was clinging to another mans arm.

House half rose from his stool, Wilson half excepted him to march over and clobber the pretty boy. The man she was with was about the same height as House, give or take a few inches. Thick hair, from their distance it looked brown but it could be black, was slicked back, it looked like there was one unruly lock that kept falling across his forehead. The man was skinny but he had define muscles that Wilson notice. He was nice looking. His skin was tan, a bit lighter compared to Annabelles. His face was handsome, thou his cheeks looked a bit sunken in. He was dressed in a light jeans and a white t-shirt under a pea green button up collar shirt. Very clean, very presentable.

House moved and Wilson grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop before he did anything stupid.

"House, there has to be a reason."

"She's hugging his 'arm'!" He hissed but Wilson pulled him back, shoving him back into his chair. "Stop jumping to conclusions. Maybe his one of her friends. You don't know all of them do you?"

House huffed a little bit slumped back, snatching his drink from the bar top quickly. Wilson nodded seeing House finally settle before looking back, watching with a keen eye on what was going on. Annabelle and her guest weren't the only ones there, it seemed a whole gang of friends showed up. Wilson noticed some of the girls from the last time but there was a few faces he couldn't figure out. "Lets see what this is all about." He muttered, ducking his head a little when Annabelle turned towards them to hug one of her other friends.

House's heart was racing, beads of sweat forming on his palms. He didn't want to believe it, he didn't want this feeling. At first, he just blamed it on himself. He was over thinking this, it was nothing. He was over reacting. Couples always had this moment in their life, this crisis. Always thinking the other in cheating, being unfaithful. Hell, he wouldn't blame her if she thought he was two timing her. He gave the image that he could never be shackled to one person, him, the guy whose past romances involve money being exchanged. He was about to leave everything alone and just carry on, until that night when he heard her say it.

He was brushing his teeth when he heard her cell phone go off. He paused for a moment when she picked up, listening to her voice to see if he could hear who it was. She didn't say a name but her voice rose. That meant she was happy. Spitting out the foam, he listened with half an ear to her muffled voice, smiling to himself. He heard his name hinted in the conversation and that alone was enough for him to zone. Right when he about to spit out the mouth wash, he heard her utter a faze that made him cough out the green liquid.

Annabelle had said, 'I love you.'

He never heard her say that to anyone. Not her friends, not her co workers. Not to him. Her mother was all but gone and she never knew her dad and yet, some random guy on the phone, she could say that statement with any problem when she couldn't even look him in the eye and say it.

That pissed him right off.

For thirty minutes, he watched from a far and each minute that passed, House wanted to sink his fist into that strangers gut and knock that damn smile off his face. How could Annabelle do this to him? She held that guys hand so tightly, like she was scared he was disappear. She giggled at everything he said and flushed whenever he whispered into her ear. He knew when she was blushing and damn it she was! He touched her cheek to brush her hair back and even hugged her tightly making her squeal out much to her friends laughter.

"That's it, I'm not sitting here and taking this!"

Wilson stuttered to form a sentence when House surged to his feet and rushed towards the table his girlfriend sat at. Or in this case, future Ex girlfriend.

"Well, don't we look all chummy." House purred with as much venom he could muster, removing his sunglasses to glare at them clearly. The table turned to look at him and House forced his face to harden when Annabelle's face lit up with a grin. "Greg!" Letting the guys hand go, she rose to him. "What are you doing here?"

'She could be an actress.' Both House and Wilson thought. She didn't looked worried, didn't look guilty of being caught in the act. "Wilson felt like singing 'Its raining men.' again and who am I do stop his need?"

"What the hell House?" Wilson groaned. This was only making matters worse. "Whose this?" House demanded, pointing his cane rudely towards the brunette man. The guy simply rose one of his brows, eyeing House's cane before offering his hand.

"Andrew." He stated and House heard a hint of an accent. French. So, pretty boy was European. Figures.

House ignored the hand, his blue eyes snapped back to Annabelle whom was busying herself asking one of her friends to move down. "You must be House." Andrew continued, lowering his rejected hand back to the table. "Wow, you psychic? Can you tell me what I'm thinking right now?"

"No, Annabelle here told me a lot about you."

"Has she? Did she did you I can make her toes curl in orgasm without breaking a sweat?" Annabelle gasped in outrage as her friends busted out laughing even Wilson covered his face at his choice of words but House didn't care, he smirked happily to himself when he saw that small flinch of rage on Andrew tight smile. "No, she didn't." He muttered. Annabelle was glaring daggers towards him and House couldn't care less, he wanted to state there and now that she was his and Andrew needed to back the hell off.

"Would Andrew Rodney come up here? You're next to sing."

He watched Andrew raise himself to his feet. "Rodney?' House scoffed, "Wow, bet you ate a lot of mud pies when you were in middle school." That earned him a glare that was short lived because Andrew simply stood up and walked by him, making his way to the stage. With an newly open seat, House settled himself down next to Annabelle who was frowning to him. "Greg what's gotten into you, that was rude.' She whispered. Wilson gave a sweet smile to one of the closer girls, excusing them to let him sit down as well.

"I don't like him."

"You don't like anyone but that's just plain mean."

"I'm not being mean!"

"Yes you are! Telling him about what we… about us 'doing' it. Him of all people don't need to know that!"

"What? Afraid he might ditch you when he finds out your sleeping with your real boyfriend?"

She sat there shocked for a moment, her brows knitted in confusion. "Your not actually thinking that I'm doing anything with him are you?" He didn't say anything but simply kept staring forward. She scoffed, reaching out to shake his arm. "You are aren't you! Greg, I'm not cheating on you!"

"You told him you loved him." He hissed, glaring back at her. Her hand dropped from his arm then, her eyes wide. She saw the hurt on House's face before it was quickly replaced with rage. He turned his head away and panic began to set in. He over heard her talking to Andrew. Oh god, he must think the worse. She had to straighten this out.

"Greg, listen to me. I can explain everything, Andrew is just my-."

"Friend? Not good enough. Why haven't you told me about him? If there is nothing between you, then you shouldn't have anything to hide."

"Its… more complicated then that, he's kinda touchy about-."

"About me? I wonder why. Bet his just trying to smooth talk his way between your legs, which I WILL remind you, was exactly where I was this morning."

Annabelle groaned, covering her face with her hands, this was going no where. The speakers suddenly sparked to life and a loud tap cause heads to turn towards the stage.

In the spot light, Andrew stood, a dangerous smile on his face. "Oh please don't." Annabelle whimpered before covering her face again with her hands again. Pulling the mic to his lips, Andrews voice cooed out with such tenderness and warmth that women, drunk and sober all but oozed.

His accent tangled so gracefully into his words that Wilson had to admit, Andrew knew how to work his magic. "I'd like to sing this song to my dear Annabelle." He began, making the women 'aww' and caused some cat called to cry out, 'lucky!'

"Il n'aimera jamais vous aime que je fais."

House fist slammed on the table at the statement. His French might be a little rusty but he could make out the fine terms in that sentence. Andrew just through his gloves down in their fight.

"His a dead man." House growled as music began to play.

**/**

**/**

Guitar music strummed out gently from the speakers, the light glowing a of hue of blue upon his person as his voice sang out lightly, his eyes looking towards the embarrassed Annabelle.

"I could feel her breath as she's sleeping next to me. Sharing pillows and cold feet."

Closing his eyes, he laid his hand across his chest, smirking when he peeked out to watch House snarl in his direction.

"She can feel my heart, fell asleep to its beat. Under blankets and warm sheets."

Removing the microphone from the stand, he walked towards the edge of the stage, meeting House's gaze with his own glare, his lips showing a playful smile.

"If only I could be in that bed again, if only it were me instead of him."

House shoved himself to his feet, wanting to leave but both Annabelle and Wilson grabbed his arm, shoving him back. Annabelle wanted to explain and Wilson, well, he didn't want to make a scene in public. House snarled and removing his arm from Annabelles grip, moving his chair away from her, causing her face to show a flash of hurt.

"Does he watch your favorite movies? Does he hold you when you cry? Does he let you tell him all your favorite parts when you've seen it a million times?"

House had enough of this. "You're a fucking liar." He hissed, looking back to her, watching her eyes widen in pain. "I-Its not what it looks like Greg, just let me explain."

"I don't want to hear it, we're going Wilson." Snatching his cane, he pushed himself to stand, Wilson close behind, quick to walking away from the table as Andrews voice blared out.

"Does he sing to all your music while you dance to purple rain?"

Pushing the door open to let Wilson out first, he glared back to the stage, watching Andrew stand there, one hand holding the mic to his lips while the other pointed right at him, both their gazes hitting with such rare challenge that House was tempted to crack his head open with his cane.

"Does he do all these things like I use to?"

"Go to hell." He muttered before disappearing out the door.

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	30. Chapter 29

**How are ya'll holding up? Can you believe it? 6 more days til the new Season of House comes on [not happy about the Huddy but I'll just cross my fingers and hope it fails like Wilson and Sam] but now I'm down to just 8 more chapters before this story is finished! Oh and sorry for the random french, translation is at the bottom. **

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"I can not believe you did that."

Annabelle slammed the car door to Andrews Geo. She was stressed, she wanted to deck him at the bar for causing such a scene in front of House. Andrew got out with a sigh, ruffling his fingers through his hair, trying to break apart the gel to let his hair hang loose.

"What? I just sang. Quelle la grande affaire?"

"I'll tell you what the big deal is!" She huffed, shoving her hands onto her hips. "That was my _boyfriend_! Now, because of your need to mess with my love life, he now might be my ex!"

Andrew gave a helpless shrug, following after when she walked the steps to her apartment. "If he can't handle the challenge then you don't need to be dating him."

Pushing the joining door, she glared back at him, watching his face light up in a friendly smile. "I don't need you picking out what guys I can date!" Pushing the door open, she entered the hallway, her fingers picking out her keys. House must be furious with her. She needed to talk to him and explain the whole thing.

Stopping at her door, she came to a sudden pause when a thought entered her head. Wilson was with him tonight. That meant… Her fingers went slick, dropping the keys she held to the floor. Right now, House could be with him, wrapping his arms around Wilsons body, covering his skin in kisses. She might of just pushed him into his best friends embrace.

But, that was good right? It was going happen at some point, right? Her hand rose, covering her lips when she felt her bottom one begin to tremble. No, she wouldn't cry. There was no need, she just needed to keep her head held high, she needed to bit the bullet and accept it. She knew what she was getting into, the pain she might suffer. She fell for a man whom was in love with his best friend. Did she truly believe he would pick her and they would skip down the yellow brick road to happily ever after? No, she needed to wake up, she needed…. She needed to take her pills.

Andrew looked around the hallway, raising a brow at the other doors. "I forgot." He mused lightly, "You moved to these joined complexes. I still don't see why you don't just get a lo-" His eyes went to her and his words dried on his tongue at the sight of her pulling out a pill bottle from her purse. His arms fell along with his smile. Anti depressions. She was still taking them.

"Annabelle." He spoke lightly making her cringe, squeezing the small bottle tightly. "I thought we talked about this."

"I need them." She stated, slipping them back into her bag. She kept her eyes forward, quickly bending to snatch her keys from the ground.

"Annabelle, you don't need those."

"You're not my doctor." Shoving the keys in the lock, she struggled with it, wanting to get away from the conversation. His hand came out from behind her, snatching her left shoulder in a force to turn her. The sudden contact made her gasp out. Fire busted and began to spread along her shoulder blade and spine making her cry out and jerk away. Turning towards the door, she held her forearm tightly, curling into herself. Her knees buckled, sliding her down along the door but Andrew rushed forward, catching her quickly. "Annabelle!" He shouted making her jerk away, tears filling her tightly closed eyes.

"Annabelle look at me! Its all in your head, it doesn't hurt!"

"It does!" She sobbed, feeling the burning pulse ride through her veins, it was like her arm was being ripped off again, no matter how hard to kept still, how tight she held the intense pressure grew. "It hurts so much!"

"Annabelle stop it!"

"A-Andrew m-my shoulder-"

"Snap out of it, its in your head!"

"Andrew please!"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

Andrew's head snapped around at the anger ridden voice that boomed over head, his eyes bugging out in shock at the sight of House behind them, still dressed in the same attire from the bar. Before Andrew could say anything, House moved quickly, getting to Annabelle side, shoving his cane into Andrew chest hard enough to knock him back onto his backside.

"You mind?" He snapped.

"Don't touch her!" House ordered. Turning his attention to her, House's face broke in dismay. She was hugging her shoulder tightly, her head bowed into her arm. Like a frighten child, her legs were pulled up in a curl, trying to hide herself, trying to push herself into the door to rid of the pain. "Ann." He whispered, trying to coax her into looking at him. She simply kept her head down, little sniffles and hic cups the only replies he heard. House shot a glare towards Andrew as he sat holding his cane, begrudging towards him.

"What kind of moron are you?" House asked, reaching up to unlock her door. Andrew glared back, pushing himself to stand. "She has to understand the pain is in her head, coddling her will not make it go away."

"No but depression increases the phantom pain so thus makes it a bit harder for, oh I don't know, for Annabelle to over come it. She needs to be off the pills first!" Shoving the door open, Andrew muttered at him while reaching to take her into his arms yet House put his own out, blocking him. "I'll get her."

"You can't walk, 'I'll' get her."

"I may not have a working leg but if you touch her I will use what's left of it to knock those teeth right out of your mouth."

He watched Andrews nostrils flare before letting up, side stepping his way into the apartment. Once alone, House looked back at her, watching her gasp out for air, her body trembling. "Annabelle." He whispered, his hand gently laying itself on top of her head. She jerked a little but he kept it there, brushing back some of the fallen locks. He called her name again and gave a relieved smiled when her head picked up, letting him look into a pair of blood shot brown eyes. "G-Greg?" She sniffled.

"Damn Skippy." He brushed his thumb along her face, wiping away the tears. "Come on, get inside."

"W-Why are you h-here?"

"Well, I live in this complex too."

"Where's W-Wilson? I-I thought you were with him.."

"Stop thinking and start doing. You need to get up." He touched her right arm lightly, giving a little push but she whimpered out, jerking away. "It hurts." She hissed. Bowing his head, House took a deep breath nodding. With a grunt, he maneuvered himself to sit beside her, stretching his legs out so he wouldn't cramp up any time soon. The minutes ticked by while he waited, his fingers tapping lightly on the marble floor. She began to calm down, he could tell by her breathing. That was a good sign. Slowly, her body began to relax and her death grip began to loosen. When she lifted her head fully up, he turned his head to look at her, his brow raised.

She looked at him for a moment before turning her head away, her eyes staring at the floor. Wiping at her face gently with her sleeves, she whispered out. "Thank you…"

He gave a shrug, feeling a little better knowing she was okay.

Earlier, he was in his apartment staring at the keys of his piano, having the urge to play but not the will to move. He was upset, he wanted to punch something. Wilson offered to take him out to a strip club or another bar to get wasted and forget about the whole ordeal but House didn't have the energy. So House just spent his time at home, waiting for something to take over his mind. That's when he heard Annabelles voice. He glanced at his front door, listening to her in wonderment. A mans voice followed and that put a spark of hurt in his chest. So she brought her man home. He pushed himself to stand, almost tempted to call his old 'home service' and order himself a one night stand. It would only be fair right?

That's when he heard her yell out, the kind of yell that made his heart stop cold. When he opened the door, all he saw was Annabelle curling into the door and the jackass from the bar yelling at her. That pushed House over the edge.

"Sentant meilleur sis?"

House looked up to find Andrew leaning over them, a glass of water in hand. House was about to fling a snappy comment when a word in that sentence caught his interest. He stared at them for a moment, watching Andrew kneel down and hold out the glass, watching Annabelle take it, giving a tired smile.

"Sis?"

Two pairs of light brown eyes glanced towards him and House all but wanted to slug himself. How did he miss this? Annabelle looked from him to Andrew before glancing back, "Greg, I know I haven't told you but Andrew here is kind of hard to understand, his actions I mean. He doesn't take well to any boyfriends I have." Her free hand lifting, pointing at the said mans chest.

"But I guess that's what brothers do right?"

House's lips parted in shock. Andrew was Annabelles…BROTHER? Even with the flood of relief of knowing that she was not, in face, cheating on him, he wanted to bash his head against the wall at his own stupidity. Of course Andrew was related to her! Up close, House could NOW notice that they were not only siblings but twins. They had the same hair color, the same curls. Same nose and ears. The only difference which House believe was what made it a bit hard to notice, was Andrew was skinner. Annabelle had a healthy amount of fat to her, giving her curves and hips but Andrew lack any fat, it was all muscle and bone. If he ate a bit more fast food then the resemblance would be uncanny.

"Woah, wait. You never said you had a brother."

Annabelle bowed her head a little in shame, her fingers tracing along the rim. "Well, you never asked and its kind of hard to introduce him to you when his never around but once out of a year." House narrowed his brows at that, shooting a glance towards her brother to explain.

"I'm a professional dancer, I was sent to perform a ballet in Paris and ended up getting a contract there. I come visit whenever I can but its not as much as I would like."

"Which would explain the accent." House mused.

Andrew just sighed at the remembrance. "If you want to work there, you have to learn the language, I had to learn it all in three months but luckily I had Annabelle here to help me."

"And the scene at the bar?"

Annabelle glared at Andrew then, causing her brother to raise his hands in defense. "Hey, I'm just looking out for her. If the guys she likes aren't going to stand up and protect her while I'm not here, why the hell would I want them with her?"

"I can take care of myself Andrew." Annabelle fought back, hurt by his statement. He laughed humorlessly at her, taking her purse from the floor. "When I left, you said you were going to get off the depressants." She pressed her lips then, her fingers picking at her jeans. "Its been a rough year." She reasoned but Andrew just took her arm, pulling her gently up. "Come on Ann, I can't leave knowing your still like this. J'ai assez sur ma plaque comme c'est."

"You won't have to worry."

House took a step forward, sliding his arm around Annabelle waist, giving it a reassuring squeeze making her blush. " Cause I'm here."

Annabelles looked up at him shocked before giving a breath taking smile. She never heard House say something so romantic, something so dearing… He standing up to her older brother, none of the other guys stood up to Andrew. This was rare! Resting her hand on House's own, she squeezed it back, touched by his promise. Andrew, on the other hand, didn't believe it.

"We'll just have to see about that don't we House? I'll be staying here for the next three weeks."

"Well then Andy, accueil à Baker street…voisin."

**/**

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**Translation:**

*****_Whats the big deal?_

_*** **__Feeling better sis?_

_*** **__I have enough on my plate as it is._

_*** **__Welcome to Baker Street… neighbor_


	31. Chapter 30

**FYI: Yes… I do not know French. I used a translator on the interweb and just went with that. If its wrong, sorry! I'm doing my best! **

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"Her brother?"

House gave a nod, leading against the wall he sat in front of. Wilson tilted his head slowly, his face covered in confusion and bewilderment.

"… Real Brother?"

"Yes." House answered again, rubbing his forehead with the curve of his cane. Wilson could not put it together. "Are you sure she didn't mean 'like' a brother cause siblings should not BE that close."

House joined his friends gaze to watch both Annabelle and Andrew perform for their beginner class. 'pas de deux' they had called it and House, even though he repeated in his head that that Andrew was just ' a brother, he was a blood born BROTHER.' He couldn't help the pool of jealousy that began to grow from the sight. They were dancing, a scene from swan lake or something. He Didn't know but he didn't like how much they looked like they were in love, how Annabelle moved so freely around him while his hands traced along her hips in every lift and every turn.

"This seems wrong." Wilson whispered making House nod in return.

"So, what's the whole story between those two?"

House gave a shrug, "Apparently, their mother was a famous ballet dancer thou I never heard of her."

"Well you don't like this stuff."

"Shut up. Well, she hurt her ankle, tore a muscle and couldn't dance no more. She was one of those scary pageant mom's cause she got knocked up and wanted her kids to take on her dream. Turns out, she wanted Annabelle," He pointed to her, "to be the successor since women are seen more in this field." He pressed his lips at the story, remembering the sad smile that painted across her lips when she whispered.

"She was ten and failed one of the try outs that would send her to one of those fancy schools of dancing. Andrew over there passed and was sent off. She was left with her mom and her mom just snapped. It seems she left during her crazy year and Annabelle ended up at her Aunts house."

"And Andrew?"

"When he came back and found out what happened, I guess he became the big brother she needed."

"Which would explain your cheek?"

House rubbed his bruised jaw lightly with his palm, a smirk on his lips. After the whole scene in the apartment complex. House sat next to Andrew on Annabelle's couch while she went to get refreshments. While sitting, Andrew turned to House, rose a brow and asked, 'So… what you said at the bar. About my sisters toes."

"What of it?"

Andrew might look scrawny but he landed a good solid punch across House jaw that almost knocked him off the couch. When House grabbed his jaw and looked at him puzzled, Andrew shock his hurt hand, muttering, "Say something like that to me again, I'll do a lot more."

So, it looked like Andrew had a backbone. House didn't like getting the undercut from Andrew but he did enjoy the tender loving care Annabelle showered on him when she found out, of course that was after her lecture to her brother for damaging her boyfriend.

The next day House snatched Wilson from his budget meeting stating, 'Medical emergence; Dr. Wilson is needed!' and when Wilson began to ask who was in trouble, House blurted out during the elevator ride, 'I'll show you when we get there.'

House dragged his best friend to his girlfriends work to watch with parents as Annabelle and her older brother began to teach. House had to roll his eyes at the swooning middle school toddlers, all open mouth gaping at Andrew as he talked with his accent or moved graceful when he was teaching one of the 'many' poses from France. He hated that guy just as much as he respected him. Andrew was very over protective of his little sister, by five minutes he found out. House watched their interactions the night before and he couldn't help but wonder if he had a sister would he do the same things. Andrew had beaten up a handful of kids for picking on Annabelle in middle school, slipped an old boyfriend of hers bad tuna after a rumor the boy had supposedly spread about Annabelle's virginity.

"Hey House… I think he might be 'that' way?"

"What way?"

"You know, _that _way…"

"Like the 'OMG WTF' way or the 'fabulous' kind of way?"

"He won't stop looking at me."

House rose a brow at the idea. Looking back, he watched carefully and almost laughed out when he figured out what Wilson was talking about. Every now and then Andrew would glance over his shoulder towards them. House thought for a moment that he was watching him, making sure House wasn't going to do anything stupid to ruin the class but when he looked closer, he noticed those eyes kept looking Wilson up and down. It wasn't a look of lust or of interest. It was more questionable, who, what and why. Normally Wilson could tell those looks apart but then again, Wilson had his blonde moments. Feeling playful, House gave a shrug answering. "Wow you're right. I bet he wants me to get your number."

"Don't you dare!" He hissed.

"What? You're cute, I'm shocked you don't have guys numbers busting out of your back pockets."

Wilson went quiet, his eyes slightly going a little wide. Did he just say something true? Oh he was going to have fun mocking Wilson with this. His lips made a grin as Wilson's face went red, his whole body facing forward forcefully, his head ducking down a little to his shoulders. "You're not funny House." He muttered much to House's delight. House opened his mouth to state another comment when a small hand touched his own that covered his cane, a small voice squealing out. "Housie!"

Glancing down, House sighed dramatically as a little five year dancer grinned up to him, her right front tooth was gone making her to freaking adorable to ignore, plus with the big blue eyes and curly blonde hair that was pulled into pig tails. She tugged his hand again, her pink tutu bobbing in her movements. "Dwance with me!"

"Oh uh-uh! I remember last time, you kept stepping on my toes." He pulled his hand away from his cane, snatching her small pale hand lightly to twirl her around giggling. "I did not!" She claimed but reaching with her other, her fingers snatched his sleeve, tugging him again. "Ms. Davis said we need buddies. You be mine!"

"Why don't you go ask her brother like everyone else."

"He talks funny."

House snorted then before shaking his head. Holding his cane out to Wilson, he pushed himself up and let the child drag him out to the line up. Wilson held the cane shocked before remembering the photograph he had looked at a couple of months ago. That was the same little girl that dragged House out to dance, Wilson couldn't help but smile at the tenderness House seemed to be growing into. He never would of figured his best friend could be lead around by a mere five year old.

But back to more important things Wilson thought. Something was wrong with him, when House said his comment Wilson found his heart racing. His face went red and for a second, his chest fluttered in joy when House said he was cute. House always called him that, always made fun of how he dressed, how he cleaned himself up but yet right now, that comment made Wilson truly wish House meant it, that House looked at him and thought he was handsome, thought he was as cute as he thought of him… Sighing out, he covered his face with his free hand guiltily. What was he doing? Thinking of his best friend like this, especially now that House finally nailed down a women who could put up with.

What was wrong with him?

**/**

**/ **

_Two Weeks Later_

"There you are!"

Wilson looked up from his folder, giving a welcoming smile to his guest. Lucas walked into his office holding a thick binder under one arm and a wiggling Rachael under the other. Putting her down, Rachael looked around her bearings before setting off, rushing around to touch every little thing her little fingers could reach. Sitting himself down, Lucas leaned his head back groaning, setting the binder on Wilson's desk.

"Do you know how much it costs to have a three tear wedding cake?"

"Yes actually."

"I don't know how you do it man."

"I didn't, the wives did it all."

Lucas shock his head laughing a little before fully relaxing in the sofa. "So what brings you here?" Wilson asked, giving a little wave towards Rachael when she glanced over to him from his trash can. Lucas rolled his head side to side for a moment in silence, he looked drained. Wilson had to chuckle at the man. The wedding was only a few weeks away and it was getting down to the wire which meant Cuddy must have his balls in a twist. Not only that but it looked like he had to take care of his soon to be daughter-in-law while Cuddy went crazy. Poor guy. "That's for you." Lucas finally answered, pointing to the binder. Wilson rose a thick brow as he reached, pulling the said item to his side. "What is it?"

"The rest of the information on Annabelle. Told you it would take a while for me to get something."

Crap. Wilson forgot to call him and tell him to stop. Holding the binder, he had the sudden urge to open it and peek inside, to see what little dirty secrets she was hiding but that would make him.. Well that would make him House. Giving it a squeeze he began to push it back, "Thanks Lucas but I don-"

"I have to tell you, that took way to long."

That's got his interest. "Why?"

"Her files were buried away under an false alliance. I had to go after one lead after another before I caught the right one."

"What did you find?"

Lucas waved his hand towards the binder, "Take a look, I think what you'll see will be very useful to you."

Wilson stared at the cover for a long minute, his mind battling on what to do. Should he open it and peek? See what Lucas was talking about? What if it was bad then he had to tell House and what if House broke up with her? Wilson would be responsible for that and he couldn't live with that fact and yet another part of him wanted it to happen. To watch as relationship he had watched for weeks begin to split apart. That meant House would be alone and would need someone, he would need Wilson.

House would need him again…

'No.' Wilson shock himself out of those dark thoughts, Annabelle was a sweet girl. This had to about her accident. House told him about her shoulder, about the scar. Lucas must of found out about it… but Lucas said he could use it. How could he use a scar to his advantage? It made no sense. The worried-need-t- know-everything-dealing-with-his-best-friend jumped up and won the battle leading him to open the cover and skim through.

Wilson's heart stopped dead cold.

One page after another, he flipped and read, then re-read. He rubbed his eyes for a moment thinking he was seeing things but glancing back, he couldn't bring himself to understand. "W-What?" Was all he could say. Laying the binder flat on the desk, he began to search, looking at every highlighted area, every photograph stapled. This couldn't be right and yet, the proof was all right there.

"… Does House know any of this?"

"Nope." Lucas popped the 'p' in his answer as he picked Rachael up from the floor, settling her in his lap.

"How do you know?"

"Eh, I figured you might want me to spy on them when you asked me to look stuff up on her."

"You've been tagging them this whole time?"

"Yup! Bugged his place, hers AND their car. House is a wild man in bed I tell you that. But back to the subject at hand, you think he be upset?"

"I-I don't know…"

"Well, I was his best friend for a couple of weeks and I knew enough to know House doesn't like being lied too."

"Yeah.. No! I mean no, th-this isn't a big deal right?"

Wilson looked to Lucas with hope, with a plea of reason in his eyes. Lucas just sat there, his fingers rubbing his small daughters back, holding her to his chest. She was nuzzled, tucking her head under his chin, sucking her thumb with such ease, unknowing to the tension in the air.

"If you don't tell him and he finds out, he'll hate you for hiding it."

"He lies to me about everything all the time, why is this different?"

"Wilson, this is different from all the pranks House pulled on you. House deserves to know. If I were you, I'd tell him and soon before things go bad."

"But Annabelle…"

"She had her chances and she ignored them. Maybe for a good reason, maybe not. Don't know, don't care. You're doing this for House, not her."

Wilson laid his hands down on the sheets, fingers feeling numb to the touch. What was he going to do? He felt the need to tell House but he didn't want him to know, he didn't want to bring House's world crashing down. He knew House would act.

"Hey, maybe he won't care. Maybe it'll just bring them that much closer." Lucas stated sarcastically, waving his free hand in the air.

"Oh god." Wilson groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"Yeah…. That'll be three thousands dollars."

**/**

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	32. Chapter 31

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**/**

"I love you."

Annabelle stared at her red face reflecting in her bathroom mirror. Taking the chance, she took her curls and straighten them out, it took two hours but the end result she had to say. It was kind of nice. With her bangs curling lightly inwards towards her face, a small portion of her hair pulled back into a half pony tail, braided down. She looked different, she felt different.

Puffing her cheeks out, she stated again, "I…LOVE…you…" Her face cracked in an unsure smile, her body starting to tremble. With a childish whine, her hands slapped over her own face in shame. "I can't do it, it just sounds stupid!"

Tonight she had pulled out all the stops and decked herself out in a bomb shell of a dress. Andrew told her he was visiting one of his friends and wouldn't return til late and that gave her to opening she needed. Quickly she began to plan and called House to tell him that they finally had a free night. She was shocked at the behavior House gave her for the past two weeks, her brother was only visiting for a little bit and she wanted to spend as much time as she could hanging out with him, learning what she could from his classes in France but she didn't want to feel like she was ignoring House. No wait, her 'boyfriend', she giggled when she thought that, he surprised her and just tagged along, he either watched her from afar or stopped by for a quick visit before work or before going home.

She knew the moment her heart told her that she truly did fall in love. They were walking towards her bakery, she was chatting away about something, she had forgotten but she remember trying to dislodge her purse and bags from one arm to another. When she managed to complete the task, her free hand was snatched and held. She looked and her heart fluttered when she noticed House had laced their fingers together and held it lightly. She was shocked, normally she always reached out for his hand, he liked to touch her back or hip, flick her hair or flick her nose but never had she seen him reach out willingly to hold her hand.

When he did, at that moment, she knew she loved him. The feelings swelled in her chest to the point where she couldn't think straight anymore. She was like a high school girl again, thinking up scenes in her mind that could befallen on them. She dazed time after time at work about his smile and tender words that she ruined pans of cookies and treats with little regret. She missed steps and fell out of beat in her dancing because her mind kept wondering to him, sitting behind her watching, to him lifting one of her younger students above his head so she could fly higher then everyone else. He was mean, an ass, a stubborn man but he was….House.

So with a deep breath, she looked back at herself in the mirror, her red cheeks, her stupid silly grin on her face. She wanted everything to be perfect tonight, the food, the setting. Everything.

Because tonight was going to be the night she told him how she truly felt.

"Greg House..' She whispered out breathlessly, "I love you…"

**/**

**/ **

House sang to himself lightly as he stared into his mirror. Tonight was the night. Messing with his tie, he looped it to a knot, dressing himself up. In a half an hour he would be over at Annabelle's place, eating her dinner and soon, he would be asking her the most important question on the year.

Giving up on his tie since he never liked wearing those things anyway, he tossed it over his shoulder onto the floor. Looking back into the mirror, running his finger through his short hair. It seemed there was still some youth in him yet, since those short strains of hair were growing, maybe he should go back and get it buzzed again. Figuring he looked fine enough to make his girl smile, he snatched his cane and walked back towards his kitchen, needing a drink to calm his sudden nerves.

He was going to ask her to move in with him. Sure, she lived next door and it did seem kind of sudden but damn it, House wanted her there. In his home, in his bed every night. He wanted to wake up to her breakfasts and tug her back into their shared room, he wanted to walk in on her brushing her teeth to tease her with snarky comments. She basically did live there since she was over there enough!

Pulling a beer from the fridge, he popped the cap smiling to himself. He was moving on, he was finally at peace… Okay not at 'peace' but he was… he was happy.

Taking a swig, he glanced to his watch. Not much longer. As he began to make his way to the bathroom for one last check, a knock on the door startled him. Looking back, he kept quiet, listening to his front door be silent before it moved with another rap of knuckles. With a sigh, he walked into the bathroom calling out.

"Use your key!"

A jingle in the lock, the door knob twisting to let his guest in. "You came at a bad time." House continued, checking his teeth for any food from his quick snack from earlier. "I'm about to go next door and ask Ann the biggest question of the century!" Leaning back out, he looked out the door way to his friend with a goofy grin, "Gonna ask her to move in, now I can tap that whenever I want!" Leaning back up right, he nodded acceptably to his reflection.

Cane in hand, he limped out before striking a pose in the middle of the hallway, showing off his black suit jacket laying nicely on top of his violet button up shirt. "What you think?" He asked, brushing his hands on his thighs, smoothing out his black dress pants. "Trying to hard? I wanna impress her in a way that says 'god your sexy I want you now' but I think this is saying 'hey I'm trying to hard, I think you should at least give me a hand job for the effort' your opinion?"

House lowered his arms when he noticed the state Wilson was in. His friend stood there stiff, his hands crossed over his chest, squeezing tight to a binder. He looked worried, his lips were frowned, his thick brows narrowed in stress. "Woah… another kid die?"

"House, I need to talk to you."

"Ah man, you know I hate soap opera moments."

"House, this is serious."

"Nothing ever serious, your just over reacting like you always do."

"House I'm not-"

"Yes you are, I'm going to go and have my night. You can stay here and twitter your emotions else where, you know where the blankets are. Wish me luck!"

"House!"

"What?"

"Its about Annabelle!"

With a frustrated sigh, House closed the door before turning fully to his friend. "You had Lucas look her up didn't you?"

"Kind of."

"Wow Wilson, you of all people? What happen to your good boy nature?" "It was months ago, I forgot to ask him to stop."

"Oh, I'm sure you did. What did you find out? Did she kill a man? Did she bang her high school football team? No, my god! Did she kick a cripple? I can't be with a women like that, what will I do if she took my cane?"

Wilson didn't move, his face didn't show any expression but worry. He didn't answer but simply held the binder out, his grip tight. With a shake of his head, House snatched the binder, hooking his cane onto his arm at the same time. "Fine but if my meal gets cold, its your ass on the line."

Wilson shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and watched his friends face. Would he freak out? Would he call Wilson stupid and toss the binder at him and leave? Go next door and ask her to move in with him, to share his bed, cook his meals and spend every night snuggled on the couch? The thought twisted a knife in his gut and caused a cold sinking feeling to spread. He felt like he was being replaced, that she was filling in his spot when she shouldn't. Wilson was still there, he would always be there. Didn't House know that?

Well, he was there now. He had to give House that book, he had to show him. If it was bad or not, didn't matter. House needed to know and Wilson needed to be there.

"…What is this?"

House lowered the binder, his glaring eyes shooting to Wilson. His friend bowed his head, keeping silent.

"What is this?" House demanded again making Wilson flinch. Looking back to the paper, he flipped one page after another, he ripped one photo out, staring with disbelieved eyes. "

"Maybe your right." Wilson offered, worried by the look House gave the photo. "Maybe I am over reacting. Its not that big of a deal."

"Not a big deal?" House whispered. Clinching the photo, he shook it at Wilson face, "Not a big deal? What the hell do you know? You didn't go through this, you didn't have to go there!"

"House calm down!"

"She lied to me Wilson!" House huffed before throwing the binder to the side. "She stood there and lied to me!"

"House…"

"I need to know." Turning, shoving the photo into his jacket pocket, he tugged the front door open, limping out.

"I need to know why."

**/**

**/**

Annabelle rushed towards the front door, her heart racing. It was time, he was there! Stopping short, she smoothed down her dress, her fingers quick to fixed any run away strains of her hair. With a deep breath, she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

"Greg!" She breathed softly. Opening the door fully, she watched him stand there, her cheeks a flush. He looked so handsome, her heart gave a little squeeze when she noticed the dress slacks. He didn't wear jeans tonight, he was truly a romantic. "Come in." She urged, waving her hand in welcome. He just stood there for a moment, his eyes staring at her. She bit her bottom lip shyly before looking away, her fingers messing with the rippled layer on her side. "Do you like my dress?" She asked.

She gave a little turn, her heels clicking on the ground. House had to press his lips, she looked so good. A sliver satin tub dress hugged her body, the skirt stopping short at her knees. A black sash tied under her bust with a ribbon on her back, giving her almost a teenagers prom night look.

He took one step, then another. Entering her home enough to let the door close. "Pretty.' He answered roughly, the result was her tittering as she made her way towards the dining table. "I hope your hungry, I made plenty. Andrew won't be home til late so we have the place all to ourselves."

She began to open the wine bottle that was nuzzled cozily within an ice bucket, ripping the paper away. "Sit, the roast is almost done, just a few more minutes and we'll be set."

"Did I ever tell you about Alvie?"

She tilted her head to his request. He didn't sit like she asked but kept standing in the arch of her dining room. "I think you have." She thought, pouring a health amount of wine into two glasses. "He was your room mate at Mayfield right?"

House gave a grim smile. "Yeah… You know what he did?"

She shook her head making her way over, offering him a glass. He didn't take it right away but looked into her eyes, searching, seeking something that confused her. Pressed lips, he took the glass from her fingers, lifting it up to take a gulp.

"He rapped, a lot."

"Oh, I bet that was fun to be around." She chuckled, lifting her own glass to her lips. His fingers gave the glass a squeeze, his hands giving a slight tremble. "He kept me up at night with his singing. He was weird, jumping around from one place to another, tagged along with me in my scams. Thou at Mayfield, at that point in time, he was my only friend I had."

"I would of liked to have met him." She cooed, her free hand touching his forearm in a soft stroke.

"You already have."

She frowned at his words, her hand lowered back to her side. " I have? When?"

"I don't know. I thought you could answer that." With that said he limped by her, setting his glass onto the sheet covered table. She turned with him, her fingers touching her chin in thought. "Did I met him at your work?"

"No. Is there something you would like to tell me?"

"Tell you?"

"Yeah like, of I don't know. How you went to Mayfield too?"

There, it was out. House watched as she looked at him shocked, her fingers falling from her face. House could not believe the notes he was reading, the words jumping out to his eyes. She used a different name and went to Mayfield for two years, TWO. She was a patient just like him! Normally, something like this could just slide by. House wouldn't have mind, really! It would have been nice to talk to someone who went through what he did, who understood but she kept this from him. He told her about that place so many times and each time she never told him. He wanted to know why.

He deserved to know why.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you? Greg, I don't understand. I've never been to Mayfield."

He stared at her dumbfounded. She looked at him shocked, startled. Was she seriously telling him she never went? "Your kidding me." He scoffed. "You know what I don't like Annie? I don't like liars." He made his way towards her, his hand digging into his pocket. "Most of all, I don't like bad lairs." Pulling out the photo, he tossed it to her, letting her catch the proof.

She looked down at the image made the wine glass slip from her fingertips. The photo was clear as day and made her eyes widen. The photo was of her, she was outside looking out an fence but there were people on both side of her. One Latin looking man who seemed to be doing strange symbols with his hands while on the other side a women, with thick shoulder length wavy hair peered at the camera shyly over her big round glasses.

"Greg, this photo."

"Why didn't you just tell me? Did you think I would break up with you over something like this?" She looked back up to him, her fingers gripping the photo tightly. Something on her face set off alarms in his head. She looked afraid. She had lied to him, kept it a secret and now was trying to deny it. What was she getting at.

An idea slipped into his head that made him take a step back. "Oh god…"

"Greg?"

"It makes sense…" Why didn't he see this before. He let out a laugh, a dry laugh, his free hand covering his mouth. "Why didn't I see it?"

"Greg?"

"You're a real piece of work." He spat. This whole time, he should had seen it! What sane girl would enter an strangers house and take care of him? What women would sit and talk with him, help him face his fears. What kind of women would help him try to reconnect his friendship with Wilson, willing try to help him? He was a fool, a god damn fool! He thought she liked him, he thought she was different from everyone else! She had acted like she knew him, she easily understood everything about him. Like someone briefed her about him, like someone sent her..

"Dr. Nolan sent you."

She shook her head, quick to reach out to him. "Greg no one sent me, you have to understand I'm-"

"You're working for him." He pulled his arm out of reach from her, his eyes wide but his face twisted in hurt, in rage. "He sent you didn't he? didn't HE!"

"N-No! He's just my theosophist, I don't know why-"

"What were you two planning? Was he pissed that he couldn't help me? When I walked out on him did he grab you and send you? Did he want to have the last laugh or maybe he just wanted to save his reputation. God, I can't believe I fell for this." He turned away from her and began to leave.

"Greg no! Wait please let me explain!" She snatched his arm, stopping him from walking over the threshold. "I'm not lying," she swore, tears filling her eyes. "I didn't go to Mayfield! He didn't send me to you, yes he told me about this complex at my last session but he was helping me with my pain, you have to believe me!"

"This," House began, waving the handle of his cane between them. "isn't going to work. I want my CD's back tomorrow." Removing her hand from his arm, he left her, slamming the front door in her face.

The world was cracking around her, shattering. She blinked, her tears falling faster down her cheeks. Her lips trembled, she wanted to scream his name, she wanted to run after him but she couldn't get her legs to move. With a shudder, her knees buckled sending her to the floor. Her breath was quick, her throat tightening. She was going to be sick, she could feel her stomach tossing. Closing her eyes, she covered her face, feeling the photo graze her temple.

Looking down at it slowly, she began to sob, dropping it to the floor. "N-No." She whispered to herself, her body bent forward to her arms around herself tightly.

"No!"

**/**

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	33. Chapter 32

**Sorry for the long chapter! Kinda got carried away... and sorry for the tease, DONT HATE ME -hides behind wall- Hope ya'll like it!**

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Wilson watched his friend stare blankly at the muted screen of his t.v. When House returned his apartment Wilson was still there, sitting worriedly on the couch. House didn't say anything but simply looked and the frown on his face and disappointment in his blue eyes, Wilson knew what had happened.

With four beers down, Wilson felt himself at a lost. He brought this on his friend, if he kept his mouth shut or just kept the files at his desk then House could be having his romantic dinner and sweeping Annabelle tenderly into her bed, tracing her skin with his fingers, covering her face in his kisses. A ping in his chest made him look away quickly, his fingers gripping his knees, the dark corner of his heart was glad he did, he didn't like the idea of House touching her, hell he didn't like the idea of House touching anyone, those tender gestures, those knowing fingers should be touching him.

That result made Wilson heart beat loudly. He wanted House to touch him, braving a glance, he looked to his friend, his eyes closing a little, his cheeks growing warm. House really did look good. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, letting him peek at the white under shirt and skin of his chest. Wilson had the sudden urge to reach over, sliding his fingers in and feel how warm that flesh was, to lean over, remove the shirt fully and be able to taste that skin.

A small gasp passed his lips when he felt the suddenly tightening in his groin. This was bad, this was really bad.

"Back at Mayfield…"

Wilson jerked suddenly, almost spilling his drink to the floor. He looked towards House, seeing him take another swing on his bottle. Was House going to tell him something deep? Pressing his lips, Wilson just tilted his head, keeping quiet, waiting for him to continue. House never wanted to talk about that time, always said it was boring or pointless. Wilson believed it was because he didn't want to remember it. It was an emotionally period.

"… During my detox. I kept thinking of you." House stared down at his drink with a sad smile, his fingers brushing along the smooth long neck of it. "I kept remembering you standing by your car, watching me enter that place. I kind of wished you stopped me."

"House, you were beyond my help.."

"I know." House sighed, letting his bottle click on his coffee table. "But I still thought it. I wanted you to lung forward, throw those doors open and snatch me. I wanted you to help me detox, not them, not Cuddy. You."

"Why.. Are you telling me this?"

"I don't know." He whispered, "I guess.. I'm tired of lying about it now."

Letting his drink join House's Wilson turned towards him slowly, his voice whispering out. "House… What are you hiding from me?"

He didn't even look at him, House just kept looking to the floor, his fingers hanging limp in his lap. "I wanted you to be mine for a while now."

Hands touched House's face making him flinch. Those fingers, so soft and gentle turned his face to the side, letting him look upon his friend. Those blue orbs stared worriedly as Wilson continued to stare at him. Then those lips made a small warm smile and like a dream, House watched, his eyes growing wide by the second as Wilson bent closer, making the gap between them disappear until finally, there was nothing. House went still in shock at the felt of Wilson's lips on him, the scent of him overwhelming his senses.

Wilson kept still, letting only their mouths touch. House couldn't believe it, finally. He always thought how Wilson would taste him, always dreamt of pulling him close, silencing his nagging with a kiss so powerful his friend melting into a pool of bliss and arousal. Finally, he had it. Closing his eyes, House tilted his head a little more, brushing his lips against his friends own, coaxing them open, to let him sweep his tongue in, to taste him deeper. House had to chuckle to himself when Wilson gave a whimper, opening his mouth to House's eager tongue, letting him take what Wilson offered.

It was intoxicating. House had to groan out, Wilson's fingers slipped from his face to his hair before wrapping his arms around his neck, pulling him close. House couldn't believe it, the heat, the eagerness. All the waiting and he finally got what he wanted, he finally got to taste, to have, to enjoy his best friends body.

' _Who do you want House?'_

House broke the kiss suddenly much to Wilsons disapproval. He tried to seek out House's lips again, his hand cupping the back of his head to pull him back down but House only shock his head, pulling away, his fingers grabbing Wilson's shoulder tightly. Her voice was whispering to him, making him remember. Why now? Why right when he got what he wanted?

'_Has any one ever told you, want is very different from need...'_

Reaching back, House's fingers curled around Wilson's wrists, prying his arms from his shoulders. Wilson finally opened his eyes, his pupils large with lust, his lips red and slightly swollen from their kisses. House had to fight the urge to lean back in, to shove Wilson down and have his way, to make him wiggle and cry out his name. No. He needed to know something first, he needed to hear Wilson say those words. He wanted something real, something..different..

"Wilson." House muttered harshly, his body tighten and eager to take back control. He wanted to rip away his clothing, to press their bodies together and spend the night finding every pleasure spot that would make Wilson arch his back and melt in his sheets.

'_You're going to hurt yourself if you keep thinking like this..'_

"If we do this." He began, his words getting caught in his throat due to Wilson leaning forward, pressing little kisses along his neck. He tilted his head down, burying it into Wilson's shoulder, breathing in his musk, feeling his steady plus. Rustling clothing made to his ears and in his bliss he didn't even feel Wilson's fingers rolling down along his chest, unbutton his skirt, raising the under layer to trace along his stomach.

"Wait." House gasped, his back arching when those warm finger tips traced up, brushing through the hairs, teasing his chest, his nipples. His heart started to race, the heat surrounding them, boiling in him was becoming to much. His pants were becoming to tight, he wanted Wilson to put those hands to better use and get rid of them, let his body breath and finally feel him push down on him, to finally feel his mouth on him. He wanted…

He wanted…

"I said knock it off!"

Wilson was pushed back with a groan, his arm tightening around House's back. Why did his friend stop? He liked where this was going, his day dreams were NO WHERE near this good. His body felt so much better, his mouth tasted better then any wine he ever drank. "Later." Wilson begged moving closer, trying to reconnect his lips with House's own. "Don't think now."

"No seriously." Wilson's attempt was blocked by House's hand that slapped onto his face, pushing him back gently. Wilson just let out a deep sigh before slumping back, looking up to his friend with needy filled eyes and pouty lips that House had the urge to kiss them into a smile but he had to hold on, until he got his answer.

"If we do this." House panted lightly, his fingers sliding down to trace Wilson's chin. "I'm going to make fun of you tomorrow.."

"You always do." Wilson chuckled, bowing his head to press his cheek into his friends palm, enjoying the tenderness.

"I'm going to out you in the lobby and make out with you in front of the nursing staff."

Wilson went still then, his eyes opening wide. "Wait what?"

"I'm going to tell Cuddy and set up an appointment with Human resources to tell them we're together. Don't think we need it but I want it on record that your hands off."

"H-House don't you think you're going kind of fast here?"

"Nope, if we do this. You're mine Wilson. I've waited to fucking long for this and I refuse to wait anymore. Once you enter this, you can't back out or pussy foot around it. You can't cheat on me cause I WILL get even with you and believe me, it will NOT be an easy divorce."

Wilson sat back up fully, his lips opening in disbelief. He really wanted to sleep with his friend, he wanted to see House's face twist in the pains of pleasure and feel him deep inside, to be one with him. To kiss him, cuddle him, to finally live out those day dreams he had been having recently but at this cost?

One night of pleasure would lead to a world of commitment?

"House I don't know about that, can't we just…you know.. Go with the flow?" He reached out, rolling his fingers up along his arm in a playful manner to get him to give. But his friend wasn't having it, yanking his arm away House glared. "I'm sick of one night stands." He whispered.

Pushing himself to stand, he limped away from the couch, Wilson quick to raise up with him. "I'm sick of being that guy, I don't want pointless sex, sure its hot and great but I'm old Wilson! I'm old and tired, my leg hurts, I've gone to a loony bin and I'm just worn out… I need something steady, for once in my life, I need that connection…"

Wilson didn't know what to say. He never heard House talk like that, be to deep and so meaningful. It actually made him scared. He wanted to sleep with him yes, he never wanted to sleep with a guy as badly as House but at the cost of everyone knowing? When he was with Amber people told him she was a female version of House, just like him in almost everyway but when he thought, when he pictures himself with his best friend, walking down the hall holding hands, kissing in front of people. All he could see was people staring, people pointing. Nurses laughing and doctors tsking. People would judge him, tell him House was bad for him. Was he willing to take that risk just to satisfy his longing?

"Wow." He finally breathed. "That was touching… You sure you're a guy?"

His small joke, his crocked up eye brow made House blink before giving a smile. It didn't reach his eyes but still, it was there. "Prick." He muttered.

"I better get going."

House gave a nod in agreement, watching him rise to his feet and slip on his coat. What the hell was wrong with House? He waited for this moment, he wanted this so damn bad he could taste it but he couldn't take that step without knowing the safety net was up. He wasn't going to be reckless, he wasn't going to sink into the darkness of sorrow or regret.

He won't wake up under that rock again.

"House… We okay?"

House waved his cane a little, signaling for him to leave. "Yeah, we are. Now get, I need my beauty sleep." Wilson gave a light chuckle before turning around, leaving through the front door to the night air. Once the door closed, House let his smile drop and a deep sigh escape from his lungs.

"Besides," He mused as he turned towards his room. "Its not your fault, no one can give me what I need anyway…"

/

/

There was a loud pounding against his door that stirred him from his sleep. House groaned and rolled over, reaching for his alarm. What time was it? Lifting his head, he glanced around the darkness in his room telling him it was still pretty late into the night, the sun hasn't even popped out. Another loud bang and a muffled voice could be heard but the owner behind it was still a little fuzzy. With a yawn, he began to rise, reaching blindly for his cane. Who the hell was that?

Touching the wall with his free hand, he felt his way down the hallway, his sleep deprived brain trying to focus on his steps, the closer he got to the living room, the louder the door became. "Hey! Break my door I'm taking it out of your ass!" He shouted. The sudden offensive noise came to a stop long enough for House to unlock the door and pull it open stating, "Why the hell are yo-"

Sudden pain flared across his face. His jaw felt like it almost snapped, his teeth rattling against one another. His body was shot back from the impact, landing hard on the carpet floor. His weight went full force on his bad thigh making him hiss out and clunch the floor, his breath sucked away from the red growing pain. Looking up, throat opening to let him curse out, he watched with narrowed eyes as Andrew crossed the threshold.

Rubbing his red knuckles, he glared with those brown eyes burning with such rare anger and insane judgment. "What have you done?" He demanded. He grabbed House by his shirt and yanked him back up to his unsteady feet, shoving him back towards the couch where he grabbed quickly before being sent back to the floor.

"I think I'm gonna hurl." House panted, reaching up a hand to touch his mouth. Andrew got a good shot on him, his fingers felt the small cut at the corner of his bottom lip, the sting making him flinch.

"I'll beat the living shit out of you if anything happens to her, god damn it House!"

Rubbing his thigh to sooth away the pain, he watched Andrew cover his face with his hands, his finger gripping his thick hair. It took a moment but House finally noticed, the raw insane look in Andrew eyes weren't from rage but some panic, sheer bloody panic.

"What the hells gotten into you?"

"I know you did this." Andrew snapped, yanking his hands away from his hair to grab House's shirt again, shaking him. "Do you have ANY idea what you've done?"

"How the hell am I suppose to if you don't fuck tell me?" House snapped back, his hands grabbing Andrews wrist, tightening his grip to stop the shaking. Andrew snarled and released him, pulling away from House's touch.

"Annabelle is gone."

House kept silent, watching Andrew turn his back to him, pacing across the living room floor. "I can't find her."

"So?"

"I came home an hour ago." Andrew continued, shotting a glare at him before looking back to the floor. "I was 'excepting' to be walking in to a lovey dovey apartment but no, I walk in and I find my sister sitting at the dining table. She was holding this." Digging into his pocket, he pulled out the crumpled photograph House had left earlier, his hands shaking.

"She was looking at this and crying. Said you gave it to her. You bastard, you had no right!"

"She should have told me!" House deadpanned, "She's the one who kept it a secret from me, why is it my fault that I caught her red handed?"

"Cause she didn't know!"

House blinked shocked before laughing out. "Oh you have to be shitting me. That is the worse excuse I've ever-"

"Listen to me you self hating hypocrite" Andrew appeared in front of him suddenly, his forefinger pointing into House face. "You don't know anything about my sister, I don't care if you believe me but if anything happens to her, so help me House, I WILL kill you."

"What are you talking about."

Andrew lowered his hand with a sigh, turning on his heel he began to walk back out of House's home. "I went to get her medicine and when I came back she was gone."

House lowered his head to his hand to rub his throbbing jaw, his pulsing leg begging for him to lay down. He listened to Andrews footsteps carry themselves out of his apartment to the hallway. So Annabelle made a run for it, where could she had gone? Was she okay? He shouldn't care, she lied to him and made him feel like an idiot, it was none of his concern. Not anymore, he broke up with her. They were done.

Not his problem anymore…

"Wait!" Pushing off the couch, House hissed in pain but quickly limped to the door, grabbing the frame. "Yo! Andrew hold it!" Looking out, he watched the younger man turn back towards him, his arm pushing the main door open to the night air.

"Just… Just let me get my shoes. I'm coming too."

"To hell with you House."

"Look, I'm not saying I did this but let me help find her."

"I can find her."

"Yeah, you're the best big brother in the world, yeah I get it, you're a big boy but two is better then one. Just hold on."

Andrew pressed his lips in a stubborn line, his face showing every means to yell, to refuse the help but this was his sister, he would need anyone he could get to make sure she was alright.

"Fine. Hurry up."

**/**

**/**

They took Andrew rental car, driving to every spot Andrew thought she would be. Each end was empty and each time Andrew's face twisted with more and more concern. Even House was starting to get worried and he hated to say admit it, but the flower of guilt was blooming.

"So she didn't know?" He said out of the blue, breaking the bitter silence between them. Andrew griped the stirring wheel tighter before giving a nod. "Okay… Care to elaborate?"

"Trauma." Andrew confessed lightly, slowing the car to a stop at a red light, his hands fell to his lap. "After her accident, while she was in the hospital. I sued the company who owned those trucks that hit her and then the car company for their faulty belts they never checked."

"Wow."

"I wanted them to pay for what they did to my sister. All of it could have been avoided! We won each case. After paying the bills, I gave it all to her to get whatever she wanted but she wouldn't talk to me."

"She had a rough patch, its expected for trauma patients to act like that."

"No. This was different." Taking the wheel again, he took off at the green light, his eyes foggy with sadness as he told House. "Before I took her to the court, she talked to me just fine. A little shaken up but she talked, it was after the courts settled she stopped talking. Reliving that moment, day after day, talking about it must have been to much that she just went silent. I should have known that, I should have been more gentle with her, she watched her friend die for god sake!"

House's head snapped up. Wait, no. Annabelle told him about her accident, she told him she couldn't see her friend that she didn't know she died until the got to the OR.

"She watched her die?"

"She told you she didn't right? She made that up in her denial. She saw it all. God, I don't even want to think what my sister went through. Paramedics told me when they got there, she was screaming. She was screaming for her friend to keep breathing, to keep looking at her. When they pulled Joan out Annabelle demanded they take care of her, that she would be alright. She died on arrival and when they told my sister, basically admitting that she had watched her friend slowly die and yet there I was, grabbing her and forcing her to repeat the scene over and over again to a judge, to a jury, to a room filled with strangers just so I could make them pay… it was to much for her."

"She shut down." House muttered.

Andrew quickly wiped the run away tear that left his eyes. "For two weeks she wouldn't talk to me, to anyone. She stayed in her room, let the nurses take care of her but never said a word… When she did, I knew something was wrong."

"Why?"

"God, I went to see her on day, to see if I could get her to talk and when I walked into her room. She turned around, looked at me and smiled. For a second, I thought she was cured. She came at me and hugged me and I was freakin excited. Then she said it and I felt my world crumbling."

House kept quiet, normally he would crack a joke, put in a comment but this wasn't Wilson, this wasn't a stranger. This was a guilt twisted man and no matter how much House wanted to mock him, his own feeling wanted to know the story. His Annabelle, he wanted to know what was real and what was a lie.

"She asked me if I came to see her perform. I was confused at first, I thought she was messing with me. It didn't take long before I noticed that she was acting different, she was grabbing nurses and asking them why weren't they dressed to practice, she was dancing randomly down the hallway. I grabbed her and tried to snap her out of it but she just laughed at me and told me that she didn't need a ride, she had her own brand new car and she was going to take her friend to practice once she showed up. She was reliving the day of her accident. I panicked."

"Didn't want to think your sister was crazy hm?"

"I don't know! I yelled at her, I tried to get her to understand that her friend died, that she was being a coward by hiding it. She was scared but refused to accept what I was saying and I just broke. I rushed her to the bathroom and forced her in front of the mirror, she tried to get away but I wanted my sister back, I wanted everything to be over with… So I showed pulled down her gown and made her look at her shoulder…"

The tears fell freely now, Andrew sniffled as he tried to control the bitter regret. Closing his eyes, he put the car in park in the middle of the empty road, his hands covered his face. "I made her look and she broke down. She looked at her scar and began to cry, began to remember and just shut down. She didn't talk to anymore again for a few weeks. I got a call from her doctor and they told me she was finally talking but she was having another repeat. It was like the trauma was so bad she didn't want to remember. They told me they were going to send her up to the psych ward for them to help her and I freaked. I didn't want this on her records, I didn't want people to know.."

"That's she's crazy.."

Andrew took a deep breath, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "I got her out of the hospital, telling them I would take care of it. I searched, trying to find a place that was far away enough that no one would notice but close enough so I could see her. That was discreet but could help me with Annabelle."

"… Mayfield."

"Yeah, I used a false name and got her into their care. They told me they would take good care of her, that they would make her right again. Dr. Nolan promised me, he was going to help her control her fear and accept her past."

"He always promises that."

"You know Dr. Nolan?"

"..Yeah… He was my therapist, I went to Mayfield too for a while to help with my drug rehab."

Andrew laughed a little before slumping back in his seat. "Great, now you two have more in common."

"The records say she was there for two years."

"I didn't think there was anything anyone could do. She kept thinking every day was the day of the accident and she was simply looking for Joan. She would go into the activity room and get everyone to do warm ups with her thinking it was her class, she would look out the fence when they had time outside and tell doctors she was waiting for her new car to arrive. Every day, over and over and like before, if someone noticed her shoulder and even on her own, whenever she looked at it, she would have a brake down and go quiet. Only to have the processes repeated when she woke up the next day."

"How did she get out?"

"… I think Dr. Nolan figured something out…" House rose a brow to that and Andrew just gave a helpless shrug. "I was on the verge of just accepting I lost my sister, that I lost the only family I had that I could connect with. We had goals House, we wanted to dance together on the stages of Paris, England. Our names on booklets, people coming from miles away to see us."

"You do know you're siblings right? That seems kinda…eh.."

"In the eyes of a regular, yeah it does but in the eyes of a true artist, a true ballet lover, there is no grounds you can cross in order to make the performance you dance come alive with your partner… That's how we were, that's how she was.."

"Dr Nolan told me to take Annabelle out, for some fresh air." He began softly, "She had been doing better, she still believed the day was the day of the accident but she had calmed down, was more 'stable'. So, I took her out. She was like her old self again, I almost forgot about Mayfield, about everything. Then she told me about her friend, Joan and how I should met her when I dropped her back off. An idea came to me and I took a chance and took her into a cemetery."

"You took her to Joan grave?"

"What did I have to lose House? My sister was stuck in a repeat, if she broke down then it would just be forgotten. I had to do something. So yeah, I took her to the grave and asked her to introduce me. I waited for her to do her relapsed, to cry and scream but she just stood there. It was like, everything was coming together. I watched her quietly cry, I didn't know what to expect. I just waited… Finally she looked at me and finally said it."

"Said what?"

"I remember… She remembered everything and cried. When I took her back to Mayfield, Dr. Nolan said we had to wait for tomorrow, to see if she forgot or kept sane. A week later, I got a call to pick her up. She was cured."

"But she's not is she?"

Andrew shook his head, "When I got her home, Dr. Nolan told me I had to bring her back to his office once every week. Finally, after a month, I went to Dr. Nolan to see how my sister was doing and he told me, she was suffering from denial and depression. The depression caused a 'phantom' pain in her shoulder while the denial altered the accident and blocked out the time spent in Mayfield. I was scared he was going to request her to come back but he just said, 'she is fine, she's accepted her friends death and moving on with her life, it just like this place with a bad dream she doesn't want to remember. Lets just work on one thing at a time.' She was my sister again, she was fine and then you.."

Andrew glared over to House whom had looked away and stared out the passenger window. "YOU had to ruin it, you had to show her that picture, make her remember. If my sister has a repeat this is your fault!"

House kept silent, his lips pressed. He listened to Andrew huffing and hitting the stirring wheel in rage. Suddenly an thought hit him, picking up his gaze, House reached over and smacked Andrew shoulder. "If I brought this on her….I know where she is."

"What?"

"We checked all of your possibilities. Lets check mine. Take the next right."

Andrew glared at him, his fingers squeezing the wheel, but with nothing else to go on, he put his car into drive and took off.

**/**

**/**


	34. Chapter 33

**Four more chapters to go. **

**/**

**/**

_You have a favorite toy you always play with. You take it everywhere you go. Maybe it was a doll that you held at night while you slept, dressed it up in pretty outfits and talked to it. Perhaps it was an action figure that you would drag around, putting it through one extreme match after another until the arms and legs poped off but still, you loved that toy. It was your toy._

_Then your parents, friend, yourself, get a new toy. Its cleaner, better. You play with it, you take it with you and praze it. You can't believe you went through your life without it then suddenly, one day, you remember your old toy. Sitting on your bed, on the shelf, awaiting for you to come back and play with it, to feel your love again. You want to play with it but you also want to play with your new one. They tell you to throw away your old toy, time to give it up but you refuse. That's your toy, your favorite toy. _

_What do you do?  
_

**/**

**/**

"Found her."

Andrew gave a smile of relief at the sight of his sister, unhurt and from the look of it, stable. Following House's directions, Andrew began to deny the reason behind House's choice. He truly believe his sister would not return to that place after remembering such an ordeal.

House uttered, "It took a graveyard for her to remember, it'll take a building to over come this."

So there they were outside of Mayfield. Parked just down the street, they both sat still, watching from afar as their target just stayed on a loan bus stop bench, tapping away at a device in her hand. Andrew let out a sigh, feeling the deep pit in his chest suddenly disappear. Putting his car in park, he began to unbuckle himself and leave but House stopped him. He explained that he should go, not Andrew. That began an argument which stated that House was the one who made her remember and put her there in the first place thus his face would be the last thing she would want to see. That reason alone made House snapped.

"I put her there." House admitted, "I'll bring her back.'"

It took a few other words to finally get her brother to agree but House was warned if his sister gave any sign of distress, then he would intervene. Settling back, he watched with alertness as House removed himself from the car and began to make his way down the road.

**/**

**/**

"B, E and up, E and up and G and up, G, A, B.…..D…B" A different buzzed out making her flinch, "Damn it."

Annabelle tapped away at the little screen of her ipod touch, her finger piano app. showing the notes her fingers kept messing. Music sang out to her, the cool breeze tickling her bones making her shiver telling her in its own way she should have brought a coat. She should have changed as well but at that moment of time, she wasn't thinking clearly. She had to get out, she had to understand, snatching her car keys, she bolted out of her apartment and ran to her car. Formal dress and all. Her fingers touched the rips in her dress, dancing weightlessly around her shins, she had forgotten how her dress got ruined but it wasn't the biggest problem on her list.

With another sigh, she looked back down at the screen in her free hand, awaiting for her to go back to her playing. Starting the song over, she began to play it again, slower this time, not wanting to mess up.

"El Condor Pasa. It's meant to be played faster."

She didn't even stir at his voice but simply played on, her eyes watching every note fall. House settled himself next to her, resting his cane between his knees. Glancing around, he tried to calm his beating heart and trembling fingers. He was nervous, how would she react to him?

"I hated this song." Annabelle began, her fingers hitting a double note. "I never knew why exactly. Every time I heard it, I got upset then I felt bad which was weird, how can you feel bad about a song you didn't like?"

"You can't dislike the song because you suck at playing it. That's not far to the music."

She gave a small smile to his comment before clicking the screen off. "She was humming that song before the accident." Lifting her head, her eyes glazed over in her memories "She was telling me about her try out and how she danced to that song, El Condor Pasa. She was very talented."

"I figured as much."

They stared at the empty dark street, the flicking lights of lamps over head giving them a clear view to Mayfield. So still with windows baring life of light and shadows. House remembered the day he left, he didn't look back. He was glad to finally be out and even thou he made some friends and fought his demons, he never wanted to look back and remember, never wanted to go back.

"Alvie drove me nuts."

She laced her fingers under her chin, resting her head upon them as she remembered.

"I thought he was my classmate Tim. Annoying guy, he never took anything seriously. Took every chance to make up a step in order to gain attention. Hated the guy, at Mayfield I thought Alvie was him and we kept fighting with one another."

"He would start out okay, let me teach him how to dance but right in the middle of a stretch, he start rapping and I just wanted to hit him." House started to chuckle at the thought of his friend trying to stand on the tips of his toes.

"Did I tell you when I was his room mate," House grinned, "he would sing randomly at night while I was sleeping? I hit with my pillow, book and weird enough, I threw myself. Forgot how I did that but I was sleep deprived."

She giggled at that, her hand covering her mouth. House smiled at the light atmosphere they slipped into. He liked this, he figured she would be like a normal women and just cry, hit him for braking up with her or brake down crying, sobbing about her past and all the memories and blame him for bring them back to her but when was she ever normal?

…She was normal… before he ruined her…

"About earlier." House swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. His fingers squeezing his cane. He broke the dam in her mental wall she had built to keep her memories inside. Everyone always said, he made people miserable, that everything he touched would become bitter and that's something he never wanted to do...

"…. I didn't know that…well, that you 'didn't know either."

She looked to him and he felt his forehead begin to grow wet with sweat. He didn't want to look at her, he didn't know what he would say if he looked into those big sad eyes. He did so much to her, he made her remember and then broke up with her. Oh god. Raising his free hand, he covered his face in pure idiotic. Not an hour after braking up, he jumped his best friend! Well, he didn't do anything but he made out which was just as bad. He was an asshole.

"… I'm scared Greg."

Snapping out of his thoughts, he finally braved himself and looked to her. Her eyes were wide and full of fear, unshed tears filling those orbs to the point of over filling. Her pupils were small and her body looked stiff and shaky. He wanted to touch her, to pull her in his arms and calm her fears, be that strength she seemed to so need. Yet he was afraid to touch her, afraid that one graze from his finger tips and he would shatter her completely. So he just sat there, still. "Why?"

"What if I forget?" She whispered. Those tears fell fully then, her hands shaking as they lifted to cup her face. "What if I wake up tomorrow and I forget? How much would I forget? What won't I remember?" She closed her eyes tightly, her knees bending up as thou she was trying to curl herself into a ball. "W-What," she hiccupped, "what if I forget you? I-I don't, oh god, what if I do?" She openly sobbed then, "I don't want to forget! I don't want to wake up tomorrow and feel like something missing again, I don't want to walk by you and not know who you are. I-I don't."

House couldn't do it. Quickly he reached out and wrapped his arms around her shoulders and yanked her close, pressing her sobbing body into his own. Her arms wrapped around his back, her nails biting his skin but he ignored the sting. "Its okay." He whispered into her hair. "You just wont sleep tonight and if you do, I'll just make you remember tomorrow."

As gently as he could, he touched her back and stroked her spine. Sending calming vibes through her nerves to shake her shaking and panting. His free arm reached down and wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her back. Her grip on him tighten, he was about to whisper into her ear when he suddenly felt her press her face pull away and stiffen. She was to emotional, he was about to hug her again when he felt her pull away a little more. Moving his hands to her forearms, he gave her a reassuring smile that soon left his face when he noticed her expression. It was hurt. She was staring at him with such hurt and belief that he found himself wanting to find a mirror to see what she found disapproval.

"Uh…" House didn't know what to make of it, did he smell bad? He didn't get the chance to shower and he was sure he still smelt of booze. His hands dropped completely to his lap when she pulled away fully. "What? So I havn't showered yet. It can't be that bad."

"No, that's not it." She whispered. Her hands let his shirt go to brush along his chest, picking at the fabric. His graphic t-shirt crinkled but she felt the under layer, the white wife beater. "There's… something on you."

"A bug?"

"That would explain… that love bite."

House hand shot up like a snap to his neck, covering the mark that made her face twist with displeasure. Crap, he didn't even bother to check himself after Wilson left or even before he ran out the door! During their make out session, he didn't even remember Wilson's bite, all he could remember was the feeling, the heat and the raw lust that ran through both their bodies. Annabelle had noticed the hickie and looked upon him like he broke her trust and committed the worse taboo on her. He couldn't lie to her, there was no point. He was caught red handed.

"I made out with Wilson." He confessed.

He waited for her to hit him, to stand up and run away from him. He 'wanted' her to do something but she just sat there, looking at him hurt.

"I.." She began to say, "… I should've seen this coming." She scoffed, shaking her head, "God, I knew this was coming…"

"This is a strange reaction." House muttered confused, "Normally, I'd get slapped by now."

"You're an ass Greg." She deadpanned, no humor in her voice " and I do want to hit you. I want to hit you so hard right now… but there's no point. You were never mine and as much as I hate to admit it, you broke up with me which means you could do… whatever or who ever you want…"

"I was yours." House whispered but she disagreed. "Not fully… I knew, I always knew this would happen." She picked up shredded trails of her dress, brushing the dirt from it slowly. "Its always like this when you love someone else… Was it good?"

House looked away, why would she asked that? "Yeah… it was."

"I guess you got your wish Greg. Congrats."

"No, I didn't." She titled her head and he turned away from her groaning. "I… went all women on him."

"What?"

"We only made out. We never got to the nasty cause I wanted to, well, enter a relationship."

"That's a first."

"Yeah.. But I needed him to be with me cause he needs me…"

"He didn't?"

House shook his head to her, silence grabbing him. A gentle touch made him look down, spotting her hand covering his own lightly. Her thumb grazed his knuckles, once again trying to ease his mind. He just broke up with her, made out with his best friend and told her braking her heart and yet, she still comforted him.

"He's an idiot."

He gave a small nod, "Yeah, he is." Raising his free hand, he laid it over her own gently. How did it come to this?

At the beginning, he loved Wilson and just wanted to use Annabelle to fill that void in his heart until Wilson came around. Once Wilson did, House managed to push him away because instead of his want to have Wilson love him, even if only for lust, House changed and turned into a need, demanding Wilson need him more then anyone else and, in spite of it all, when he looked at Annabelle, he couldn't leave her like he planned too, he couldn't.

Pushing himself to stand, he squeezed her hand tightly to make her rise as well.

"Come on." House tugged her lightly. "Let's get you back home."

She didn't move, her feet rooted to the ground. She shook her head at him and he gave another tug. "Its okay Ann."

"No, its not okay." She whispered. Sniffling, she gave a weak laugh as her hands pulled themselves away from his gently. "How is it okay? I'm a little out of it right now. I've just remembered I went crazy, we broke up, YOU made out with your best friend and on top of that, I might forget about everything.. Normally that wouldn't be the worst part but to me it is!"

"To late to say we pretend tonight never happened?"

"Greg…. What is left now? What are we now? Ex's? Strangers again? Are we just friends?"

He pressed his lips in thought as she asked him. She was basically asking him to tell her the deal. Tell her they broke up, tell her he wanted to stay only friends. She was letting him deiced where they went from here. How fate must hate him to go from having a night planned on romantic candle light dinners and a question of moving in with one another to a hell braking loose of past trauma and brakes up.

What really was left now?

"Damn it…"

He couldn't do it. He cared for her, he really did. She touched his soul more then any other women he knew, he could be himself around her, he could confess anything to her and know she would take it with stride but no matter how much he willed, no matter how much he tried to make the words come out. He couldn't say it. He couldn't leave her.

"… How about a bed buddy?"

She looked back at him slowly. They stood there, facing off. Now it was in her ball park. She could either walk away from him and return to her brother and label him as an ex, hate him for everything he did to her tonight or she could take him as he was and understand he couldn't give her what she wanted. Maybe tomorrow when she woke up, she would forget her babbles and ordeal, forget about everything they talked about. But he wanted her to understand, even if he couldn't say it, he cared for her deeply but it wasn't love.

It was slow and small but he saw her tired smile. The night had been long and full of tears. Harsh words and bitter sweet confessions were made. Pasts were told and guts were spilled and at the end, Annabelle smiled at him.

"Bed buddies?" She repeated.

He gave a shrug, "What? You think I pass on free sex? Wilson kind of left me with blue balls here, think you can help with that?"

She chuckled then, her feet taking one step before another, approaching him ignoring his joke. "So…we're just going to use one another?"

"Something like that."

"..Alright. I'll take what I can get for now."

"Just like a women, come on. If we prove to your brother your okay, maybe he'll let me stay over."

"He might demand to sleep between us."

"Fine, I call top."

Stopping beside him, she reached out unsteadily, unsure, her fingers brushing along his own. "Is there a chance.. We could try again?" She whispered.

"… I don't know." He confessed. Her hand dropped then but he snatched it before it touched her side. His feelings were ripped in two. He cared for her to the point where he didn't want to see her as just a friend, he wanted to touch her, kiss her, treat her like his but his feelings towards her was a dim light to the feelings he had towards Wilson.

He didn't love her like he loved Wilson but he liked her enough to want to keep her at his side. There could be a future with her, he could try again but his heart… His heart cried out Wilson's name.

Squeezing her fingers one last time, he began to limp with her back to her car to take her home. He'll figure everything out tomorrow after she woke up.

After he see's if she remembers him.

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**To House's little problem, plz do not bash me. House is just doing what we all do, trying to have his cake and eat it too., Do not worry, the next chapter will b good.**

**Hint: Its gonna b rated M b/c Wilson is gonna do something naughty :3 **


	35. Chapter 34

**Warning! This chapter is Rated M due to sexual scenes and content. **

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'_Oh Greg..'_

Wilson stared mutely at the bottles of beer that littered along his coffee table. The stench of alcohol making him dizzy, the sight of last nights take out growing cold and bitter. He drank to much, he knew it. His memory was a bit blurred throw out the late night hours to the early morning, but he remembered drinking the rest of his beer and then moving on to anything else he had. Wine bottles laid lopsided under the table, one loan rum stranded by the couch. He believed that was House, left behind when he moved out. Wilson chuckled at that, hoped he didn't need it back.

The home phone rang, his cell phone sang but he didn't want to move. To heavy. He didn't want to get up and open the door to reality. Not when he felt like this. Guilt, shame and down right confused. No amount he drank could take those three emotions away.

Tilting his head back, he watched the ceiling begin to spin, letting his brain swim in the fog of drunken emptiness. His cell phone was now a muffled buzzing to his ears, trying to reach him. He should be at work right now but he just couldn't bring himself to go. He doubt he could walk straight anyway. His stomach was starting to tighten and that was normally an early sign that it was going to unload its content, hopefully upwards not down.

Bringing his drink to his lips, he took another swallowed of the luke warm liquid, trying to rid of the images in his brain. He was disgusted with himself, with House.

After their little make out scene, Wilson returned home frustrated and scared. What was going to happen the next day? Would House act like normal or would it be different. House was a stubborn bastard, the chances that House would tell him that they couldn't have a friendship, that their make out had changed to much that he couldn't look at him the same were very high. House would demand they be together.

Or not at all…

The next day Wilson went to work nervous, his hands wouldn't stop shaking. He dropped almost every file, stumbled over words and kept looking over his shoulder. Thinking he would spot House behind him, see his friend watching him from afar. Yet no matter where he looked, how much he listened, his friend was no where in sight. It was late into the afternoon, during his clinic hours when House finally showed up. He looked beaten up, clothes wrinkled, bags under his tired eyes. Wilson forgot about the fear of his reaction since it was quickly replaced with worry. House looked horrible. Perhaps this was to much for House, Wilson had to do something, take care of him somehow!

Putting his file down, he rushed out to met him at the elevator, "Wow, do I need to ask?"

House only grumbled, rubbing his hands over his face. "Long night, couldn't sleep."

Wilson's heart began to race, his fingers curling into his shirt sleeve. "Was it because…." he couldn't finish the sentence. Has Wilson unwillingness to let everyone know, to simply take the pleasure and not the strings cause House to look as he did, the guilt would eat him up inside.

House looked at him confused, like he didn't understand his logic. When the dawned on him, House's brows shot up before giving a dismissing wave, "oh, that. No. Rest easy mother hen, this is something else." The doors chimed and opened letting House entered but his answer tugged Wilson to follow. This wasn't his fault? That was a relief but that still laid the question.

What was?

He followed him to his office asking and House all but ignored him, tried to change the subject before finally giving in. Tossing his back pack on his glass desk, he turned and looked at his best friend with sleepy eyes. "Fine. I was at Annabelle's all night"

"What? You two kiss and made up already?" Wilson spoke uneasily. Something in him sunk, did they get back together?

House fingers picking at the straps, his brows narrowed as he struggled with an answer. "Kind of.. No. I don't know." Rubbing his face a little. House began to explain what had happened.

Wilson was the one who brought the past to life through House. Wilson couldn't believe what he heard and the shame of putting her in it. Wilson's knee threaten to buckle so he sat himself down slowly. Annabelle was a sweet girl, sure she was rough around the edges but anyone would if they were trying to protect someone. Even Wilson had a time or two when he bite someones head off for mocking House but after they got to know each other better, she was nice to him, she opened her arms and let him enter their world whenever he wanted.

House and Amber had to fight over him, argue over their shared times and days and that made Wilson feel…important but it made him feel off the hook, that he couldn't get in trouble. He didn't want to choose between the two people he loved so he let them choose for him. With Annabelle, he never had to argue to see House, he never had to demand a contract made for times, days to take him out. If he showed up to take him out, she would just shoo House out, would give him a kiss goodbye and tell Wilson to take care of him.

She let him into her world happily and Wilson repaid her by bringing out her past and giving her a mental brake down. What had he done?

House went on to explain that he staied up all night watching her sleep. Andrew gave a good fight at the idea of House staying over but when Annabelle gripped House's arm and asked for him to stay, Andrew stopped fighting. This was about her, not him. So while she slept, House watched over her. Wilson felt the ping of jealousy when House muttered about how he worried, what if she woke up and didn't remember him? Lack of sleep made House confess far more then he would and even thou Wilson was proud to see that side of him, he was also envious cause he didn't do it.

In those sore blue eyes, Wilson saw a glint of warmth when House told him he was late due to refusing to leave Annabelles apartment until she woke up. He wanted to see with his own eyes if she forgot him. The emotional fight and stress from the night before made her body sleep well past ten but when she finally awoke. She opened her eyes to House's face. Wilson could tell, in his friends expression, the look of utter joy when House muttered.

"She's fine."

Wilson grumbled when his cell phone went off again making him knock his leg out, sending the cell phone across the coffee table to the floor along with some of the empty bottles. Why won't they stop calling him? He didn't want to come in, didn't they get the picture? Tossing the empty glass aside, he slumped, laying across the couch. A week after that was the reason he found himself drunk in his loft.

Everything went back to normal yet one thing kept repeating itself. Every other time when Wilson and House were together, if they were eating lunch, if they were sitting in each other offices. House would look at him with those serious eyes and hard expression. Wilson, each time, would ask what was up and each time, House would say.

"Date me."

Each time House said it, Wilson felt his face grow hot and his heart flutter. His mouth would open and he would tried to answer.

His words always fell, he didn't know what to say. He wanted to say yes but he kept saying no. He wanted House but his feelings were mixed. Scared of hurting his friend, scared of taking that step. He just kept quiet and looked at him with his mixed feelings until House gave in and looked away, going back to what he was doing. Only until the next time.

Last night, Wilson remembered through the fog, he remembered what happened and at the moment. He really wished he didn't. He was leaving, going to head home after a long day at work. As he walked, the hallways empty of nurses and staff, he took a quick detour and made a pit stop by his friend. Stepping into the wide secondary office, he glanced to House's main office and noticed the curtains were pulled. Wilson was about to suggest House already left when he heard a rattle and an oath that come out from the other side. Something told him to go away, told him to turn around and leave but his feet carried him towards the door. Just a peek. That's all.

As slowly as he could, he pushed the door open a crack and pulled one of the blinds side.

House looked beautiful, his face twisted in passion and lust. Beads of sweat covered his forehead. Wilson noticed his suit jacket was gone, the buttons all undone and open wide to his graphic shirt that was pushed up, baring his chest, those tone muscles of his tightening stomach. Wilson still remembered the feeling of that chest, the fine hairs, the warmth, the taste of salt. House was on his feet, leaning over his desk, shoulders hunched and still while his lower half, his hips moved in a steady thrust. Wilson felt his body stiffen and blood rush away from his limbs, from his face. His eyes trailed down and the image made his mouth drop.

Under House's thrusts, Annabelle was sprawled on the glass desk. Her body jerking from every inward push of his hips. She was arching her back, her hands clawing at House's forearms, holding onto them as his hands, hands that played such beautiful music held her hips with such urgency, sliding her back, closer to his body. Her hair fell in a river of curls over the desk to the floor, her shirt was all but ripped open, flashing her flesh to the lamp light, to him. Wilson felt his pants grow tight when he watched House bow his head, trailing his lips across her chest, teasing that tan flesh until those lips wrapped around one of her nipples making her gasp out.

'_A-Ah! Greg…'_

Wilson rose his hands to his ears, covering his ears. He could still hear her moaning, calling out his friends name so softly. House was fucking her, in his office! Everyday House asked Wilson to go out with him and here Wilson was, watching him do someone else and what was even better, he was doing his ex! Wilson didn't know why it hurt him so much but it did, what Wilson also didn't understand was why his body was reacting the way it was. Their sounds were over powering, House's grunts and harsh commands, Annabelles whimpers and cries made Wilson body demand attention.

It was getting to watm, his free hand pulled at his tie, finding it suddenly choking him. His brain told him to look away but Wilson couldn't bring himself to do it. Pressing into the glass wall, his eyes half closed, trying to keep his breathing under control. The way they moved, House was demanding, his thrusts taking what she gave, sinking into her faster and faster but his hands, they were so gentle. He touched her with such tenderness like he feared a rough press could shatter her skin and leave her bruised. Wilson suddenly wished he was in there, that those fingers were touching him, teasing his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

Suddenly, Wilson felt it, the need. Without himself even knowing, without taking his eyes away from the sight, his free hand found itself tangled with his zipper, trying to reach in and touch himself. He was degusted with himself to feel what he was feeling but damn it. He couldn't fight how much it turned him on. Pressing more into the glass, his hand pulling his erect penis from his briefs, letting the cold air sending a chill up his spine.

His finger wrapped around the base when he watched House pull Annabelle up to him, her arms wrapping around his neck to keep herself close. They kiss, a eager wet kiss that made Wilson bit his tongue to keep back his moan. His hand moved, slowly at first before gaining speed. He followed House's movements, his speed, his grip tightening when he felt his muscle tighten. The sounds, the sights. Wilson loved it, hated it. It turned him on like nothing else, no porno, no make outs with his wives ever made him hard like this, ever made him rest doing this in public.

Her voice rose in a pitch, her curls flinging when her head went back. House's lips touched her throat, growling into her. 'You close?'

'Yes.' Wilson whispered with her, his toes curling in his shoes. His legs were trembling at keeping him standing. Sweat dripping down the side of his face as his hand became a blurr, the pleasure, the pressure. He wanted to be in there with them, he wanted to be pressed down on the glass, feel House deep inside him, pulsing, sending him over the edge while Annabelle traced his chest with her hair, her fingers making his skin flare. His back jerked off the glass when he felt the first wave of climax, he was close. His thumb brushed along the tip, smearing the precum, the sensitivity making him shiver. He wanted them, the very image of it, Annabelle pinned between them, helpless, no way out, only to suffer and hold on as Wilson and House's body took her, their breaths mingling into one in their kisses, to hear her beg for release but never getting it, to taste House as he pushed closer into her. God, he wanted that scene, he wanted that connect, that lust. That heat surrounding him. His wrist cramped but his need kept going, he wanted to cry out, he wanted to stop, to drag out the pleasure. It was wrong, it was right. He didn't know what to make of it but damn it.

It felt so good.

Annabelle came first. Her voice came out in a muffled cry due to her face burying buried into House's throat. House followed soon after, his hands burying themselves into her hair to tilt her head back, to let his deep groan bury itself into her temple, his parted lips breathing into her ear. Wilson followed right after, spilling himself onto his hand and carpet. He didn't know how long he kept still, trying to understand what had just happened. Lifting his hand, he looked at his fingers seeing the evidence of what he had done. Suddenly a wave of shame hit him. He just…. 'oh my god' he muttered.

He could hear House's pants and Annabelles little sighs as they tried to regain their breathing, lost in their own world of pleasure and afterglow. With shaking legs, Wilson removed himself from the wall, his hands tucking himself back in. His legs trying to get him back out into the hall, get him out of there without them hearing.

He just jerked off to his best friend.

He just came watching him fuck another girl.

Worse of all, he LIKED it and he wanted to be apart of it. Shame hit him harder and the need to clean himself, to wash his hands, his body, to wash out his ears from the sounds filled him. His legs could not run fast enough, his car could not drive fast enough. He just did the unthinkable. What was wrong with him?

Two words. That all it took to send him into his sprawl. Two words made him do the unthinkable, made him do something he never would have thought. It made him think of joining, of sharing and that alone made him feel dirty.

Rolling onto his side, his throat closed up at the tears and sickness. An all night drinking fest followed closely to an all morning… He didn't feel so hot.

Curling his body up a little, his fingers gripping the side of his couch. His mind began to settle in the fog and his lips gave a trembling laugh. What was he going to do?

His stomach exploded then, sending him over to the edge of the couch, throwing up the bile in his stomach. He sobbed, hot tears falling from his eyes. What was he going to do?

Closing his eyes tightly, he dry heaved and struggled to get up but his body felt like lead. Slumping back onto the couch, he panted and struggled again but his body didn't respond. His arms and legs went numb and his skin was to hot. Something wasn't right. His eyes lids started to drop, his brain trying to shut down. His ears picked up the muffled buzzing of his cell phone and no matter how much he willed, his fingers could not reach out to it.

What will become of them? Of House… and Him… That was the last thought that whispered in his head before he passed out.

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	36. Chapter 35

**Wow, I forgot to post this awhile back. My bad! Plz do not bash at my idea or my crude use of songs. I've been having the weirdest dreams where everyone keeps singing to me... and I dont know why... But! I hope you have time, this is a long one but keep on the positive note. **

**Just one more chapter to go.**

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"I just…needed.."

House clenched his fists tightly into his knees, his head bowed to the overwhelming guilt that drowned his soul. Annabelle stood behind him, a frown of concern on her face for both him and his best friend.

Annabelle received a text from House earlier, telling her he did something bad. She tried to call him but he never picked up, this worried her to the core. She texted him, demanding to know where he was. He just typed one word and she ran out the door of her bakery.

'Work..'

When she arrived, she ran into House's boss, Cuddy who gave her a look of worry before whispering to her the room number he was in. She thought the worse, was House hurt? Did his depression worsen? He texted her saying he had done something bad, what did he mean? He couldn't possible mean killing himself…right?

She rushed into the room and was taken back from the sight. House wasn't the one in bed as she thought, no, he was sitting beside the it, his face showing no emotion, but his eyes, those blue eyes were red and sore, as thou he had been crying. Her eyes looked to the bed and her fingers covered her mouth to keep back the gasp.

Wilson was the one hurt.

He laid motionless on the bed, his heart monitor beeping out in a steady rhythm. He looked pale and sweaty, was he sick? She approached House, unsure on what to do. She wanted to ask but she didn't want to upset him. When she got to his side, House turned his head to her, eyes staring painfully at the floor. "His sleeping it off now.." He whispered.

"He…didn't show up for work." He began, his fingers squeezing, knuckles white. "Cuddy told me, told me to find him and bring him in. Something happen in the oncology ward. I called but all I got was his voice mail so.. I went to get him."

House's breath shuttered when he let it out, his eyes closing tight. He walked into Wilson's loft and began his search, slamming his cane loudly on everything to bring his friend out. He stumbled on his friend laying face down in the couch. An evil prank came to mind but as soon as he rounded the couches corner, an awful smell hit his nose. He saw puke on the floor and finally noticed the containers upon containers of alcohol. Doctor mode kicked in, dropping to his knees, he turned his friend over, his stomach dropping at the sight of vomit lingered on Wilsons face. His skin was dulled down and no matter how many times House called his name. He was non responsive.

He called for an ambulance then, his hands quick to search for any signs of relief. Wilson was still breathing, but it were slow. To slow. Touching his throat, he felt a faint heart beat and panic set in.

Alcohol poisoning.

"They pumped his stomach." House went on, his hand quick to press into the side of his face to smear away a wet trail he refused to accept as a tear. "We caught it early… god.. I did this."

"House." She frowned, "You didn't-"

"No. I did." He spat those words coldly at her. "I told him I wanted him, everyday. I told him I couldn't go back to friends. I forced him to pick, to be with me or nothing. I didn't mean to do this, to push him to drink. I should have just accepted his refusal. I should have just kept quiet!"

She touched his shoulders but he pulled away, his hands covering his face. "I just needed him to need me. To be with me… I did this to him, My selfish need drove him to this." This time she couldn't hold back. Her arms snapped around his neck and held tight. He grabbed her forearms and squeezed and she feared he was going to try and push her away yet he turned his head and buried the side of his face into her own, his body trembling as he tried to control his dread.

"No more." He whispered painfully to her. Her fingers touched his face, holding him tight as he snuffled.

"I can't do it anymore."

With one hand, he reached out, touching Wilson's limp palm. Shaking fingers tracing those still digits down to their fingernails. "I didn't want to hurt him… No more. I wont ask him anymore."

"House."

"No." He said sharply. Giving that soft hand a squeeze, he let Wilson's hand go, letting it rejoin his other.

"My need isn't important anymore… I'll just keep this friendship."

"If there is any of it left."

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What was that noise?

Wilson let out a soft groan at the sounds of heavy muffles and movements. Lifting his head to be greeted with light that made his eyes close in a flinch. What time was it? Once his pupils settled, he glanced and his thick brows shot up. He was in the lobby of PPTH. The heavy muffles were people talking back and forth. How did he end up there?

He was slumped over on the counter, like he had rested his head on his arms in a pointless effort to find some ease. He didn't remember getting to work, he didn't even remember getting up from the couch. What got him more was the fact his head was not hurting, he remembered the large amount of alcohol he shoved down his throat, he should be having a killer migraine or at least be in his bathroom puking his guts out.

Rolling his fingers through his thick hair, he began to rise when a sound fluttered to his ears, making him turn towards it. Was someone playing their Ipod? It wasn't loud but it was enough to catch his attention and by the look of everyone bored expression, only his. It was coming from the clinic area. Pushing off the counter, he approached to see who was playing their music. Glancing through the glass doors, he spotted people suddenly started to slow down. This freaked him out a little, everyone was moving in slow motion, was he still drunk? He shook his head to get his mind to work properly when from the corner of his eye, he caught his boss. Even in the weird funk of slow stepping, she was moving at normal speed. Not only that, she was singing. Her white lab cat was floating around her as she walked, her arms hugging a chart to her chest.

"When I was younger I saw, my daddy cry and curse at the wind."

This was strange, why was she singing aloud? It was like she was in her own music video. He tried to get her attention with a wave but she kept singing on, moving so gracefully around the main information desk.

"He broke his own heart and I watched, as he tried to reassemble it."

She placed the chart onto a bin, her long soft hair curling around her face when she looked up, staring back towards her office.

"and my momma swore that she, would never let herself forget… and that was the day that I promised, I'd never sing of love… if it does not exist.."

Wilson looked with her and his lips parted a little in surprised, he didn't even notice Lucas standing there. Leaning his form against the door frame of Cuddys office. He smiled at her with such warmth, such love that Cuddy smiled back, her heels clicking as she made her way back to him. Reaching her hand out to his own when his arm beckoned out to her. "But darlin'…" Hand grasp, Lucas twirled her into his arms while she sang, holding her so tightly that Wilson felt the ping of jealousy.

"You are the only exception…"

This was weird. He must be having a dream caused by the drinking. But why singing? That made no sense. He suppose he had to try and wake himself up but how. Walking back to the lobby, he began to ponder, maybe if he jumped off the roof then he would wake up. As ideas began to pour in his brain, the entrance doors busted open, shining a flash of light that all but knocked him back a few steps. Arms raised on reflex, he peeked over to see what caused the doors to do that. The answer was not to his liking.

The second his eyes landed on House, music started out of no where. Like stereos taped to his ears. House looked so…different. He moved with his cane so easily, so second nature. A shadow appeared suddenly between the doors that it caused House to turn towards it. Wilson lowered his arms and sides step his way to see as well, wanting to know what got his friends attention.

Annabelle was standing, her body clashed in a rocker get up that Wilsons jaw almost dropped. Her curls were pulled up into a messy bun, tight jeans tucked into high shin pure black heel boots, a red tank under a black graphic t-shirt that was cut up, bareing her creamy skin. God, she was every bikers dream at that moment and the way House looked at her, Wilson suddenly wanted to get in the way.

The music got louder and Annabelle moved to the beat, approaching House, a hungery kitten to a bowl of milk she acted, her fingerless gloved touching House chest.

"Race home, open the door." Twirling around him, she hopped onto the counter, pushing herself to stand, House eagerly watching, his free hand tracing along her legs in her movements. "Run upstairs, throw my bag on the floor." She kicked her leg gently at his hand, whipping herself around like a true ballerina. "Log on, two seconds later, I get a message from you saying,"

"Hey baby." House called out, his face breaking into a smile as he watched her dance, her feet planted as she rocked her hips around, Wilson saw that style once at a strip club. He glanced around but everyone was still carrying on with their business, no one noticed, no one cared. Only him..

"Been going crazy thinking about you all day, so much to tell you." She bent down to trace her hands along her tights to her hips, her eyes glancing to Wilson's own making his body jerk. Could she see him?

"Boy I feel the same way." She sang lightly, was she singing to him? Was she trying to tell him something? Her head turned back to House, jumping off the counter to get snagged by his arm, pulling her to his side, grinding into his hip.

"Can't wait to see you, just you and I. Cuz everything night I'm thinking what it would be like." Like a snap, she was whipped out, her body stopping on the tips of her toes as she sang, dancing her way back to House who just watched amused.

"I get a rush, more then a crush, almost love! Makes me feel high, every time, I think about us." House snatched her right hand and hip, dipping her back, letting her loose tangles of curls brush into the air. "Even thou we talk every day I still can't get enough." He pulled her back up and she looked up to him, her eyes misty with..god Wilson didn't want to say it. He didn't want to admit it. "I'm not opposed… getting kinda close." She ducked forward, burying her face into House's throat, her arms locking around his neck as she whispered, the answer making Wilsons gut twist in a jealous knot of hate.

"Almost love.."

"Wake up!" He shouted, he didn't want to dream this anymore. Why was his brain tormenting him? The sight of them was to much, just like the night he found them making lov- no. They were fucking. He would not admit that term nor would he admit wanting to be apart of it. He slapped his own face trying to cause a sting to bring him back to reality.

During his attempts to get out of his new nightmare. He almost didn't hear the soft words before him.

"I was made to believe I'd never love somebody else…"

Wilson glanced up, his hands lowering from his face. Another song? Really? When did the tempo change from a fast pop to a slow ballad? He looked with a beating heart, listening to his best friends voice, House's voice sing out. God, Wilson loved that voice. So deep, so bone melting, he envied Annabelle to have the honor to hear it, to be sang to with it. House's hands trailed down along her back, holding her close, tucking her under his chin but his eyes, those blue orbs that could crush your soul with a glance was staring at him.

House could see him just like Annabelle? House was looking at him differently then before, his smile was gone and his face looked worn, tired. Those eyes were sad but pleading, Wilson could feel him reaching out to him even if he didn't raise his hand. "I made a plan, stay the man who can only love himself."

House tugged her away from his chest to spin her under his arm slowly. "Lonely was the song I sang,' he moved her back, letting her stand before Wilson but over the top of her head, House was looking into Wilson's eyes, his voice was singing to him, to them? "Til the day you came." He let her hand go and he began to back away from them. "Showing me another way and all that my love can bring."

Wilson's feet moved on their own, moving himself next to Annabelle, standing beside her as they both watched him sing, both watched his eyes look upon them both.

"Oh half of my heart's got a grip on the situation," he reached out and before Wilson could moved, Annabelle took that step and snatched his hand, letting House pull her back to his side. "Half my heart takes time." He turned his back to Wilson as he danced with Annabelle making Wilson curl his fingers into a fist. Why? Why did he miss that chance? Why was she always cutting in? Wilson wanted House to hold him, to dance with him. It wasn't fair! "Half of my heart got the right mind to tell you," House stopped his moments, his fingers brushing along her cheek bone almost sadly as he glanced over his shoulder, staring back to his friend. "That I can't keep loving you… with half of my heart…"

Wilson didn't know what came over him. It was an unseeing rope that wrapped around his body and yanked. He moved quickly, his feet hurryingly across the floor. His throat felt like there was something stuck in there, it was crawling out, a ball of air rising to the surface. He needed to be next to House, he had to!

"Hey!"

Silence ripped through out the room, everyone seemed to have stop dead in their tracks. Everyone except them. Both House and Annabelle looked at him shocked, their eyes glazed over, a deer caught in head lights. Wilson stood before them panting, his lips trembling at his shout, he felt the bubble come up again, he let the unseen force take control, he didn't want to fight and keep quiet. Moving close, his arm slide between them, his body sliding its way, causing a gap to form all awhile, his lips parted to hear his own voice shockingly begin to sing.

"Whats your name? I think I like you." House leaned back away from him worried but Wilson pressed on, his fingers reaching, curling into House's coat, holding him still. "Come a little closer now." He sang, a coy smile playing his lips. With a glance over his shoulder, his hands trailed down along his friends chest, feeling him stiffen and pause a breath while Wilson watched Annabelle begin to back away. "Hey, what you say. Is that your girlfriend?" Looking back, Wilson snatched his arms and playfully turned him, let House's back face her, to have his full attention on himself. "I'll be turning that around."

He felt…strange, wrong but Wilson liked it. He felt House's breath quicken and felt the pressure of his friends hands touching his hips. This was what he wanted. He watched with a fluttering heart as a smile touched House's face, those wrinkles coming to view that Wilson found beautiful. His House. "Don't cha wanna, don't ya wanna know?" Pushing himself up to the ball's of his feet, he pulled House's coat, pulling him down to let their lips settle only a inch apart as he whispered with as much lust, as much arousal to make House groan with need. He wanted that kiss.

"What it feels like."

With a sudden urge, he yanked House away from everyone, pulling him towards a nearby wall to press up against, letting House's body cover his own. The heat, the feeling. It made Wilson's blood race to his groin and his skin feel like it was on fire. House touched him so tenderly yet rough, it was perfect, it was hot. Tossing his head back, Wilson couldn't stop the bubble from pressing out, making him sing out loud, not caring who heard.

"Lets me friends so we can make-out."

House's body suddenly pushed away. The heat suddenly gone made Wilson hiss in disapproval. House was at an arms length, staring down at him. His lips twisted in… what? Wilson couldn't pin point but he didn't care. He needed House's body again, he needed to be touched, to be kissed. Reaching up, he wrapped his arms around his best friends neck and pulled him down, trying to connect their lips, his voice whispering.

"Your so hot, let me show you around."

House turned his head, letting his lips graze his rough bread. What was he doing? House closed his eyes tightly and grabbed Wilson's wrist, yanking, pulling himself free from their grip. What was he doing? Wilson tried to reach but House let him go and took a step back, his face twisted in hurt, in disgust. What had Wilson done? He tried again, his hands clawing into House's arms even when he tried to pull away.

"I know what I want and I wanna play." He glanced to the side, watching Annabelle covering her mouth in pure horror. What? Could he not have what he wanted? What was so bad? "Everyone knows I'm getting my way! It doesn't matter what you say!"

He was pushed back suddenly. Hitting the wall, he looked up with rage. didn't House see? Didn't he understand that Wilson was finally giving him what he been asking for? House stood there, his head turned away. His body was stiff and still, his hands balled into a fist. Before him Annabelle stood, her arms stretched out.

So she pushed him back. What? She didn't like a challenge? Well that was to bad. Pushing off the wall, he moved to push past her, his voice ripped out. "I'm knocking you down, down down!"

She grabbed his shoulders and it surprised him how strong she seemed to be. She kept him in place. Yanking away from her, he looked to her face and noticed she wasn't looking at him in rage, her body didn't stand ready to fight. No, she looked at him, her face pleading. She shook her head at him, her fingers squeezing. His frown made her let go to hold her hands up. Was she telling him to stay put? Her forefinger and middle finger pointed to her eyes before pointing lower to her chest.

"Watch…you?"

She gave a nod to him before she turned, facing House. She moved so slowly, her hands touching his arms. House closed his eyes jerking away, did Wilson cause this? What did he do? She gave a gentle caresses before her voice came out, her song making House's eyes slowly open.

"Time stops, like everything around me.. is frozen.." She reached up, her hands cupping his face. House's shoulders lowered, letting his head be turned to her, letting his sad eyes gaze into her own. She gave a small smile, her thumbs brushing along his cheekbones. "and nothing matters but these… few moments." Lowering his head, their foreheads pressed, she whispered, causing House's head to tilt and sink, letting himself sag almost boneless against her. "When you open my eyes to things I've never seen."

She turned so Wilson could watch their profiles, watch House's face light up a little more with every word she spoke, what his hands begin to raise to touch her.

"Cause when I'm kissin you my senses come alive. Almost like a puzzle piece I've been trying to find." Her nose brushed his own and Wilson felt his stomach drop when House chuckled, his arms wrapping themselves around her waist. "Fall right into place, you're all that it takes. My doubts fade away when I'm kissin you…"

Her eyes glanced back to Wilson and he felt rooted to the spot. What was she waiting for? Did she want him to watch her win? To win House's heart? To rub the bitter defect into his face. He didn't understand, why did House hold her, touch her.. Why did House love her when she sang but pushed him? Was Wilson that disgusting? Did he wait to long? He didn't understand.

He didn't want to lose House.

He wanted him back, all to himself. He missed the old times, the feeling of knowing House would always call him first, be with him first. Choose him first…

And he messed that up.

His body trembled as tears began to fill his eyes. He did this to himself, and there was nothing left but to admit defeat. Looking back to them both, he took a shaking breath, letting his tears fall, letting his voice speak, letting the need, the loneliness come out. He would bear it all. He won't hide no more.

"I see your blue eyes… Everytime I close mine." Bowing his head, Wilson felt his chest begin to squeeze. His feeling coming out, spilling free. No more holding back, no more.

"You make it hard to see… Where I belong to, when I'm not around you." his arms rose, in utter defeat. "It's like a law to me." Finally he looked up, seeing that the couple looked upon him. Their faces blank. Wilson couldn't see, not through his tears but he didn't care. He wanted House to know. He wanted himself to know. With a sad smile, he reached out to them, the light shining brighter through the windows.

"But I never told you, what I should have said…No I never told you.. I just held it in." Bowing his head, his fingers curling into fist. He brought them back to cover his face, to hold himself through the regret. "And now.."

"I miss everything about you." Opening his eyes, Wilson stared at the floor, his fingers shaking as he tried to dry his cheeks. "Can't believe that I still want you and after all the things we've been through." His voice paused when another hands of hands took his own. His heart skipped a beat, he knew those fingers, that palm. Tilting his head back slowly, he saw House standing over him. His friend was smiling, so bright, so warm. A child waking to piles of gifts on Christmas morning. House held his hands so tenderly, raising them up, pressing Wilson's fingers into his lips, kissing them. He looked past House's body to spot Annabelle standing alone, smiling, waving her hands in an encouragement to go on and that's what he did.

"I miss everything about you, without you…."

House kissed his palms and Wilson couldn't hold back his smile. Was..that it? House just wanted him to tell him how he really felt? An echo in his brain whispered an old saying making his eyes widen on insight. House did not want friends with benefits, no. He wanted Wilson, full on and Wilson finally gave it to him. Letting his hands go, House wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, tucked him so neatly, tenderly under his chin. It was a dream come true.

And yet, as he melted into those arms and enjoyed the bliss of the new found love, Wilson looked back and watched Annabelle stand there, her composure never breaking but he could see, her sad eyes watching. Suddenly, he felt sad, sad for her. Sad for himself. Someone had to lose in order to win..

This suddenly didn't feel like a victory. No, it felt like a betrayal. She had been there for House when Wilson did not. She gave and asked for nothing, she welcomed, fought for and found love… and then to have House pick Wilson over her, that had to be a blow so hard that one wouldn't be able to stand. Even thou Wilson wanted to win, he forgot the pain she would feel. Reaching down, he took House's hand and felt that warmth that for a split second, he didn't want to let go. He wanted to sink into that heat, to giggle in joy and let House's lips drink him into pleasure. He would love that but not now, not in front of her.

"Hands touch, eye's meet."

Wilson looked up to House whom did the same. House bowed his head and kissed his forehead making his breath shutter, his finger squeeze his forearm tightly. All words he thought, forgotten.

"Sudden silence, sudden heat. Hearts leap in a giddy world…"

Wilson buried his cheek into House's chest, turning to face out to the lobby. There she was still but she was smiling so sadly to them, her hands laced together on her chest.

"He could be that boy…" Her hands lowered to go behind her back, almost childishly. "but I'm not that girl…"

Wilson pressed his lips, she looked so tormented. So hurt. He wanted to hold her but he knew he was the last persons she wanted to touch. If only he didn't open his mouth, if only.

Her fingers snapped in front of his face making him jerk, causing House's arms to grip him tighter. She was sudden in front of him, so close his nose flared at her scent. "Don't dream too far." She told him, her fingers poking his nose. "Don't lose sight of, who you are. Don't forget…" her hand lowered, trailing along House's arm. House didn't flinch, didn't even look to her. It was like he didn't even know she was there.

"Don't you want to remember that rush of joy? He could be that boy…" She let her hand slip away, her fingers trembling in the need to feel him again. "I'm not that girl."

Wilson suddenly reached out to touch her but she pulled away, her hair spilling from it bun to wave around her. She spun away, her arms flinging out, lost in her own memories, in her own world. Her own song. "Every so often, we long to steal. To the land of what might have been." She stopped a few feet away from them, her arms hugging herself tightly. "But that doesn't soften the ache we feel…when reality sets back in…"

She looked back and this time, Wilson saw her tears collecting in her eyes, threatening to spill over. "Blythe smile, lithe limb… You are winsome. You win him."

"Brown hair with a gentle curl." She was quick to wipe that lone tear from her cheek before it touched her lip, trying to keep her brave face on. "You're the one he chose… and heaven knows…. I'm not that girl…"

God, why? Why did getting something he wanted twist his gut so? Oh he knew why, because he was Wilson. The careing, sacrificing friend who would try to solve other peoples problems, to help other before himself. He never wanted to see people sad, see people hurt. He was pitiful. It started to make him wish he never started this whole mess. Made him wish he just woke himself up, it was all a dream right? He should close his eyes and wish it all away.

"Don't wish. Don't start."

Opening his eyes, he looked back, feeling House's fingers brush up along his spine to his hair, combing, stroking gently. Annabelle shook her head back to him, her hand touching her chest, over her beating heart that seemed to beat slower with every fading note to her song. "Wishing only wounds the heart… I wasn't born for the rose and pearl."

Suddenly everything started to go black. Wilson gripped House tighter, his eyes wide. The room was shifting, the wall crumbing away into a black void in which he could not see through. Everyone was disappearing, one by one. He tried to call out to Annabelle to get close, he didn't want her swept away with the others but Housel only buried him tighter into his chest, leaving Wilson helplessly, watching as Annabelle gave a wave goodbye, her body sinking into the cracked marble floor, swallowing her whole .

"There's a boy I know…. He loves him so.. Its okay Wilson."

He buried his face into his friends shirt, not wanting to watch his dream world suddenly collapse. He didn't want to wake up but he did. The only thing he could hear, was her voice echoing into his ear, making him finally slip into the darkness of unconsciousness. One had to lose in order for the other to win.

House picked him because Wilson was the one…

Annabelle was not that girl….

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